Friend or Foe
by Pirate18
Summary: Spiderman is trapped by the NYPD and the Avengers in a heated pursuit for his own freedom. Fighting for his life, Peter attempts to evade capture of the law and his fellow superheroes while balancing a precarious relationship with the Avengers and his vigilante activities. But, is Spiderman too late to save himself?
1. Chapter 1: Silly Mistakes

**Hello fellow humans, this is my first fic here on FF and I am excited to hear feedback from you guys! Any constructive criticism or comments are welcome. I have many plans to come as I continue to write more chapters. Please R & R, e****njoy my lovelies!**

It was a strange afternoon for Peter Parker. His eyes quickly surveyed the area, catching ever so often on the busy and lost souls of New York; he found nothing of interest. There were few crimes on the blistery hot afternoon, all the teenagers were busy partying away the dog days of summer. Peter had better things to do than spend his time intoxicated and surrounded by cringy dance moves. Peter had a purpose: make the world safer for the little guys.

Subconsciously, he tugged on his sweaty Spiderman suit letting in a swath of cooler air. Peter could feel the sweat dripping down his lumbar spine. Despite the eerie silence, his spider-senses were fairly quiet and for that, he was glad.

_Thwip-thup_, he swung from his perch on a high-rise building in the Queens area heading towards downtown where there is bound to be trouble—per usual. The methodical swinging filled him with ease and comfort as he sighed. The wind rushed past his ears racing past his slim form, cooling his overheated body.

As Peter adeptly turned the high-rise corner, he hears a faint cry for help a few blocks down—bingo. Not that crime is a good thing, but perhaps it would make his dull afternoon a little more exciting. He immediately stops swinging and focuses his ultra-sensitive hearing in the direction of the cry. From Peter's experience, it was a mugging in action, and he is just a few blocks away.

Without a second thought, Peter begins swinging his frame towards the ruckus. _Thwip-thuck._ This is what he was made for, lowering petty crime and helping old ladies cross the street. There are even a few times during his rounds when he stops to do tricks for the kids at school. Yet, even those have become few and far between with the heightened police presence and his wanted name in neon plaster at Times Square.

Before Uncle Ben died, Peter went out as Spiderman but holding back on the more dangerous crimes such as bank robberies, drug dealers, and prostitution rings. He greatly cared for Uncle Ben and Aunt May; they took him in when his parents died. Peter fondly thought back to the good days with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Those were the times.

Unfortunately, May had passed in an accident shortly after Uncle Ben was shot, leaving Peter with frazzled CPS workers. Child Protective Services showed up at May's funeral; it was beyond what Peter was capable of processing at the moment.

So he did what he knew best, put a pin in it. Peter was in no emotional state to fight off adults who took ahold of his spiraling life. Shuffling papers, making phone calls, and exasperated sighs at the station, CPS workers were at their wit's end. Unwilling to look Peter in the eye after that gruesome day, yet they tried one last call for the night.

CPS temporarily placed a hold on Peter's Spiderman outgoings, but not for long. He was determined to continue fighting crime whenever possible. The CPS workers had called a distant relative who wanted little to do with Peter, a scrawny fifteen-year-old parentless and possibly troubled, youth. Nevertheless, CPS pressed his unwilling relatives until they finally agreed to take him in, mainly for the paycheck support benefits. Peter never saw a dime of his support money. They hated Peter before laying eyes on him.

Shuddering at the grim memory of the dark station, Peter vicariously remembers feeling the disgust in their gaze when they came to pick him up that evening. They wanted nothing to do with an extra mouth to feed, much less a teenager with a mind of his own.

The CPS workers came to an agreement that since May and Ben's apartment was left in Peter's name, he would legally be allowed to claim it after he turned eighteen. Despite the situation, Peter saw this as a light at the end of the tunnel. _Thwip-thuck._

He was nearly at the scene of the crime. Peter's hearing perked up as he pushed the unwanted memories back down. His fears had a tendency of bubbling up and catching him when he least expected them. He was well —_errgh—_working on it. At least that is what he told himself. Good days never last, with boredom comes time to think. Time to think can sometimes warp itself into unpleasant memories.

Peter realized this a while back and always tried to keep himself busy with schoolwork, second jobs, and being Spiderman of course. His relatives decided he was well set up at Midtown High School and had no intention of packing an apartment to put in storage in addition to adding a nuisance into their home.

Every other weekend Peter would get a visit from his relatives. They would check to make sure he was alive and then leave with whatever they wanted to take from the apartment. Mostly expensive things like glass plates, the television, and other items that could catch a price at the local pawn shop.

It was ideal for Peter though, he stayed in the apartment, went to school, and got to continue his work as Spiderman. He could deal with the rest later. As time passed, Peter became bolder with his crime-fighting. Now it was just him against the world, and occasionally his history teacher. Peter started to fight more elevated crime, the bank robbers and kidnappers, or at least until he caught the attention of the police and the Avengers.

He stopped swinging forward and pulled his torso towards the side of a building, crouching on its corner. The cry had gone silent. Peter mentally berated himself, he needed to focus on the present, not the past. _Thwip-thuck._ He quickly picked up the sound once more and propelled himself forward.

He pondered if his luck would hold out until his Spiderman shift was over—it didn't. Recently he had been in an odd, tension filled semi-rivalry with the Avengers. Tony Stark saw his actions as causing havoc in New York rather than saving good innocent people from muggings and crime. It was one of his worst fears, to be on the wrong side of the police and much more, the Avengers. Although publicly denounced by Tony, Peter presumed the rest of the members were not entirely on board.

Thus far, the Avengers as a collective whole have not released any statements when asked about Spiderman in the media. The police, on the other hand, had been much more direct in their methods, going as far as to post a warrant for Spiderman's arrest due to public safety issues. _Humph. _Peter rolled his eyes at the thought, he was more careful than the Avengers when it came to public safety.

Peter could feel it though. He would occasionally feel prickles in the back of his neck, his little hairs rising when he was being watched. It was the little things like a car pulling away after he fought off store robbers or a strange man dressed in black turning corners. He knew this was not the regular police but the FBI on his tail. His spider senses would buzz in the back of his head if when he was being watched or followed or in danger of any kind. Nowadays it happened more often than not, today was one of those days.

Finally, he arrived in the dark alley corner of Queens. Peter's spider senses lightly buzzed; he was aware of his space but not in any danger. His night had been fairly fluid so far. Peter was able to stop a woman's mugging, return a lost child to its mother, and now hopefully stop a group of two men from robbing an older gentleman. Simple is as simple can be, right?

He paused on the corner of the building analyzing the scene for a split second before swinging down behind the two men without a sound.

"Give us your watch," a towering, bulky figure demanded his voice angry. The second figure, a short heavy-set man, stood holding a two-foot metal pipe in his hands.

"Come on old man, we don't have all night." The second man chuckled.

Peter stood there for a few seconds before making his appearance known, waiting for the opportune moment.

"Ahem.." Spiderman subtly cleared his throat. Three heads whipped over to where he was hidden in the shadows as Peter emerged into the dingey alleyway light.

"If it isn't the neighborhood bug looking to get squashed" insulted the assailant closest to the old man.

Peter quickly scanned the older gentleman, and besides a small scratch on his cheek, he seemed otherwise unharmed. Disregarding the absolutely terrible bug comment, Peter fired back.

"Well, if it isn't your average idiot looking to get webbed? I'd say you have a good chance of getting caught." Peter retorted in a sarcastic voice.

He could hear the police sirens a block down making their way closer to the scene. His spider senses started to pulse at the nape of his neck. Without warning, Spiderman swung his right leg over to the man's closest attacker and knocked him on the side of the head. The man hit the wall with a surprised yelp, Peter activated his web-shooters and pinned down the flailing man's arms and legs, successfully webbing him.

Before turning towards the remaining attacker, Spiderman's senses blare in his head as he ducked his head in time to miss being hit by the second man's metal pipe. It was too close for comfort. Spiderman then swung his leg back in a semi-circle while still crouched down and successfully knocked down the second man who crab crawled towards the wall in fear. Spiderman nimbly pinned the second thug to the side of the brick wall.

Sirens blared and Peter could see two NYPD police officers pulling out of their vehicles with weapons drawn about fifty meters from his position. Yet, what was is even odder was seeing two Avengers, Hawkeye, and Black Widow, turning the corner at the same time; they looked beyond enraged. For a moment, Peter swore he caught a glimpse of excitement in their eyes. He shivered at the idea of being excited about violence.

Momentarily confused, Spiderman paused and quickly scanned the alleyway to find the source of his outing, a security camera from the apartment complex. From above Spiderman could faintly hear jet engines which could only mean one thing—Iron Man.

Peter's thoughts were racing in his head. How did they find him so fast? Why did both the police and the Avengers have to show up at the same time? They couldn't arrest him, right? Technically, he didn't do anything wrong or illegal.

His adrenaline peak with caution, every hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A small feeling of fear crept into the pit of Peter's stomach. Before this moment, Spiderman had only ever been approached by either the police or the Avengers, but never both at the same time.

_Dammit, _Peter thought. _I should have been more careful. _He cast a glance at the retreating victim.

"Thank you for helpin' me son," the gravelly old voice broke Peter out of his swirl of panic, "but I think you better get outta here," his New York accent thick in the reply. The gentleman nodded towards the two figures approaching rapidly and then quickly moved towards the police units at the alleyway's entrance.

Spiderman was frozen with shock for a few seconds while staring at the two approaching figures who continued to narrow in. He was unable to pull his paralyzed muscles away from their stance. His temporary shock paralysis abandoned him when the two NYP officers fired at will. Spiderman's instincts took over immediately.

The sound of a ricocheting bullet pulled Spiderman out of his panicked thoughts deeper into fight-or-flight mode. Spiderman dove into the corner of the alleyway shielding himself from the hail of bullets that followed suit. In a different time and place, his propelled jump would have made any professional soccer player jealous.

Peter wracked his brain for an escape route. _Bingo_. If he could get to the ledge of the apartment building across the alleyway, he could easily lose the entourage of law enforcement and the flightless Avengers.

Spiderman stole a glance from behind the dead-end wall he shielded himself behind. A bullet was aimed at the exact location his head was a second earlier.

_Crap. Crap, crap, crap, _Peter swore and mentally berated himself. This wasn't the first time he had an incident with police, it was just the first time he was caught off guard with a no exit alley. Suddenly, the rain of bullets ceased. Spiderman listened to the footsteps of the avengers slowing down about ten meters from his location behind the half wall covering his frame.

The police stopped firing to avoid hitting the two Avengers. Peter's heart was pounding in his chest like a wild animal, his fearful heartbeat vibrated into his ears where he could hear his blood pulsing. Spiderman felt the sweat drip down his forehead through his mask. This was his chance to escape.

Without hesitation, Spiderman took two massive steps and propelled himself into the air. _Thwip-Thuck,_ he aimed for the wall across the way when suddenly, all hell broke loose.


	2. Chapter 2: Slippery Slope

**Hi peeps, I decided to rewrite this chapter because I was not satisfied with the character portrayals the first time round. Thus, here is the new version, feast your eyes. Warnings for mild language, and some violence. Without further ado, ****voilà****. **

"We got him on video surveillance on 21st street," Steve shouted breathlessly to the team on standby over the com attached to his right ear. The Avengers had been working on Spiderman's case for a couple of weeks now, trailing his sightings and movements across the city with police radios. Overall, he wasn't a bad guy per se, at least not in Steve and Bruce's agenda's but the rest of the team were more puzzled by the vigilante. Spiderman certainly didn't operate within the laws of the state, their boss, Nick Fury and the entirety SHIELD did not endorse that kind of behavior no matter how benevolent it may seem.

Of course, it was just Steve's luck that he had to be stuck at the Avengers tower while the rest of his teammates scoured the active streets below. Sighing, he continued to monitor the camera facing Spiderman in the alleyway. _He was certainly a curious little fellow_, Steve contemplated. So far, Steve had never seen Spiderman bring actual weapons to his crime activities, but rather a form of detachable web that seem to come from his wrists. Although this comforted him to an extent, knowing his teammates would be more out of harm's way, it did worry him the lack of information they had on the mysterious Spiderman. How did he get his powers? Who is he? Why does he do what he does? Steve shakes his head slight concern as Spiderman finished webbing the last man to the floor and was now being fired at by NYPD. Watching the camera was more nerve racking than the time he was introduced to cell phone camera.

Where was Bruce when he actually had questions that he couldn't solve himself? Steve let a small smile creep into his face as he thought of Bruce somewhere in his lab working with new drug synthesis for his enhanced teammates, well, mainly himself and Steve. He suspected Bruce didn't quite approve of the Avenger's wanting to find Spiderman.

In the weeks prior during their investigations, Steve as the collected team leader, and Tony with his overactive and occasionally impulsive brain, created a system in order to track down Spiderman. Essentially, if there was a sighting of the vigilante, a pair of Avengers would be sent out to investigate, completing phase one in tracking their elusive vigilante. If the sighting was positively confirmed and located, the team would proceed to phase two, containment. Or as Tony would say, "capturing the slippery bastard."

Hopefully, then, without too much incident—because what could go wrong right?—onto phase three: interrogation. Steve was cautious to approach the situation very carefully, Tony on the other hand was guns-a-blazing. Natasha and Clint were pretty much on the same page as Tony's creative ideas. _Ugh, spies and billionaires can be such handfuls,_ Steve shuddered, no one should be excited for violence. Yet, the team has had a lackluster number of missions to occupy energetic minds since the great alien invasion last year. Yet, Spiderman was one hard guy to catch. Every time the team felt near to cornering him, he slipped away from their grasps.

Today, Clint and Natasha were on call for scouting out sightings. Fortunate for them, they were in near Queens, the neighborhood where Spiderman was caught on surveillance camera.

"Copy that Steve." Clint responded leaving absolutely no room for argument in his tone, "we'll be on his tail in less than two minutes." Clint glanced at Natasha from where he was standing and nodded in positive confirmation.

"Steve caught sight of him?" Natasha asked excitedly as her adrenaline started flush up her cheeks. They were finally going to be able to bring in Spiderman. The entire team, with the exception of Bruce and Steve to certain extents, were just about dying of curiosity to know who was under the mask. Plus, it helped their case that they were now were under direct orders from SHIELD to find out who the little swinger was.

Initially, Natasha felt wrong attempting to unmask the little guy, but as his crime stopping grew bolder and more sporadic, the entire team felt some guidelines needed to be put in place for his actions. Not only for the safety of the vigilante behind the mask but also for the safety of the people of New York City—even if they were criminals. The Avengers needed to make sure Spiderman endorsed good intentions for their city; he was profiled as a high-risk vigilante especially as there was no known information in his file that could prove his intentions otherwise.

Natasha and Clint traveled in a synchronized fashion to the location Spiderman was spotted on camera from Steve's reconnaissance. They both stared at the raving blue and red lights emitted from the police cruisers that had pulled into the narrow alleyway, further blocking the only exit. Glancing at each other, the pair proceeded towards the commotion. Without saying a word but maintaining eye contact Natasha and Clint turned the corner into the alleyway, each agent on separate sides of the dingy dead end.

Clint analyzed the scene in front of him, Spiderman finished webbing a man to the floor and quickly perked his head up at the old man retreating towards the police cruisers who then jerkily passed the pair. However, what struck him as odd was that Spiderman didn't immediately flee the scene as he was expecting. It was as if his feet were rooted to the ground and he was unable to move. _What is the bug planning,_ Clint questioned and glanced over at Nat's side of the street where she shrugged. He gave her a brisk nod as confirmation to proceed. The pair gingerly walked closer to the locked-in vigilante.

Policeman behind them drew their weapons and began to fire openly at Spiderman but avoided the two Avengers near each wall. _Well at least if they hit him,_ it would be easier for us to bring him in, Clint thought morbidly.

Within milliseconds of the open fire, the vigilante had leaped behind a wall, avoiding injury but now blocking himself from the two Avenger's view. Once the hail of bullets ceased, one of the only sound ringing in the damp alleyway was Clint and Natasha's footsteps. The pair slowed their walk, in anticipation of what was to come as they were close enough to hear heavy, anxious breathing from behind the wall.

Clint reluctantly started to draw his bow and nick an arrow into place; it was loaded and ready as his fingers twitched with anticipation. He didn't necessarily want to use force on the trapped vigilante, but the team had a mission to accomplish. He would not shoot to kill as they need Spiderman alive for questioning. With his mind made he decided to try talking to the guy sheltering behind the wall crevice.

"Spiderman, we have some questions for you," Clint raised his voice that bounced ever so slightly from the brick surroundings.

Natasha carefully withdrew her daggers in preparation for a defending an attack from Spiderman. She was not fond of him. First of all, she was the spider on the team and boy, was she deadly. From the information the Avengers had gathered in the previous weeks, Spiderman is not the type to attack innocent people. _However, when provoked, any defenseless animal would attack to protect themselves_, Natasha angrily recollected from her previous training. Unfortunately, Spiderman was a cornered little beast.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way Spiderman, but we're going to need you to come with us." Natasha followed with a steely voice, leaving absolutely no room for a rebuttal.

Before either Avenger could react, a flash of red and blue exploded into the air with a web aimed at the adjacent wall. Time stood still and at the same time moved in slow motion. Clint released his prepped and noted arrow aimed towards the flying figure. Natasha propelled forward towards the escapee, weapon in hand with a collected, dangerous smile breaching her schooled features. The two Avengers watched, stumped as Spiderman's fingers nimbly grasped the ledge of the burnt red brick building. His slightly panicked and uncoordinated movements instantly painted a picture of desperation as he proceeded to disappear out of sight.

"Well crap, Tony please tell me you got eyes on him?" Clint moved his hand up to his com and released colorful words under his breath. This was not supposed to happen. The plan was simple, locate the bug, capture, interrogate and release—ideally. Right? People don't just squish bugs, they usually go through the effort to release them, at least Clint did. Natasha, well, she's probably only be interested if it was poisonous bug.

Clint shifted his eyes from the crumbling corner ledge up towards the now quickly darkening sky he distantly heard Tony Stark's suit repulsors blasting. It had been nearing sunset when the pair received the Spiderman sighting.

"I got eyes on Spiderman," replied a stern and pissed off Tony Stark, "I'll track his heat signature." Tony was about a block out from their location but zoomed at full speed towards the dimming red and blue figure. _Got you bug,_ Tony smirked triumphantly, he finally had visual tracker on their slippery vigilante.

"Good, we'll corner him ground up. This guy doesn't know what's coming for him." Natasha echoed fervently in the com; playtime was over. Spiderman wanted to play games, but she was not in the mood today. The team had spent too much time chasing his tail the past few weeks, attempting to contact him without force to no avail.

"Keep us updated on his location Tony," Clint replied intently, huffing with irritation that Spiderman fled the scene before shooting a quick look towards Natasha.

"Did you get him?" Natasha glared at Clint, fuming at the loss.

Clint shook his head, "No," he sighed dejectedly as he bent to pick up his fallen arrow. Upon closer inspection, he ran his deft fingers over the sharpened—now sickly wet—tip, "but I did nick him." Dark blood coated the tip of Clint's index and thumb as he gave a final glare at the cornered ledge where Spiderman disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3: Face Off

**New chapter already?! Yeah, I had some extra time on my hands this week. Enjoy peeps! Please R & R :)**

_I can do this. _Peter took a deep—attempting to find confidence—breath. _Just jump, come on Peter. You can do this. Come on Spiderman don't fail me now._ His legs quivered with hesitant anticipation of jumping out to the precarious cornered ledge. Peter would have to purposefully, and hopefully with some form of grace from his anxious limbs, tackle the ledge across the alleyway to make his escape from the Hawkeye and the Black Widow.

Peter's mind buzzed with alarm; how did they track him? Why were they being so aggressive? Were the weapons really necessary? He already had unhappy policemen on his tail the past few months. _Of course, all thanks to the Daily Bugle, an unreliable newspaper of lies, who painted him as a masked menace of the city, ugh._ He shook his head, clearing away the unsavory memory.

The past few weeks Peter had finally been able to focus his time and energy on actually being Spiderman; he felt accomplished as a recent graduate from Midtown High—first in his class nonetheless—he had momentarily basked in his newfound freedom of summer. No plans with the exception of holding down his job at Del Mar's Deli to build up college funds.

Snapping out of his panicked trance, Peter refocused his advanced hearing when a delicate nick of an arrow adjusted in place. _Wait were they talking to me?_ Peter heard words and sounds coming from the Avenger's direction but was unable to focus attention on anything except the sound of blood pulsating in his ears. _Crap._ He didn't necessarily want to be rude and ignore them, but they did purposefully corner him with weapons drawn. Right? _Well, here goes nothing._ Spiderman launched himself to the opposite wall in an attempt to avoid conflict or confrontation from the two Avengers.

Peter successfully landed on the ledge and with nimble fingers heaved his frame over the side onto the roof of the two-story complex. Quickly collecting himself, Spiderman immediately shot out a web towards the building juxtaposed to his location. _Perfect, I'll just get high enough to get them off my back._

_Thwip-thuck._ Spiderman pushed off the duplex roof with easy before he felt a painful twinge to his left leg. Sparing a quick glance downward in between his next swing, Peter noticed a rough tear to his suit and felt the cold air rush across the stinging gash on his calf. _Great, now I'll have to fix my suit when I get home. Again._

Pulling his weight forward as quickly as possible Spiderman worked to put as much distance between him and his big Avenger fans as possible. Although escaping immediate danger, his spider senses continued to buzz in warning. Usually, his senses quieted after leaving hazardous situations but at the moment, they seemed to be spazzing out of control. Perhaps it was the adrenaline still coursing through his system? Sounds of a closely nearing Iron Man with repulsors validated his suspicions. _I can't catch a break_, Peter huffed. Without wasting a second, Spiderman made a sharp right turn around a high building and disappeared in between two gargoyle statues.

He waited for Iron Man to pass his location before pulling away in the other direction. _Thwip-thuck. Well, that was close, sheesh these people don't let up. _Spiderman was exhausted from the activity of the day; it was definitely time to head back to his apartment and feed his complaining stomach. He had grabbed a hotdog earlier in the day for lunch, but it was now past dinnertime and he didn't appreciate the whale mating calls coming from his empty belly. Sometimes it sucked having an enhanced metabolism to keep up with. _Thwip-thuck_. Spiderman continued to swing around the block when suddenly his web snapped, and he was falling.

"Agh, what the hell?" Spiderman shouted in surprise as he launched another web to halt his fall. The only times he had issues with his web sticking were during torrential rain, it certainly was not raining. Peter felt the comforting tug of his web once more after losing some elevation in the snap. Looking around he couldn't see what may have caused the snip. The base of his neck buzzed lightly with caution. Before even reaching around the building, Spiderman's web snapped a second time and he was losing altitude once more. _Ah crap, please don't tell me my web-shooters decided now was a good time to malfunction_. Rapidly sticking another web to veer away from a wall, Spiderman's web was once again snipped, but this time Peter knew why.

Iron Man hovered across the street with thin, red laser beams emitting from his hands. Spiderman attempted to stick another web but failed as it was severed faster than the last with the red lasers. This time Peter didn't have enough time to stop his crash onto the closest roof. Spiderman tried to catch his landing in a run which turned into an ungraceful trip and roll flop onto his back.

"Why me?" Peter complained in a slight wheeze as the impact knocked the wind out of his lungs. Spiderman sluggishly rolled to over and stood upwards. Iron Man landed gracefully in his line of sight with both his repulsors ready to fire. _Welp, it's going to be fun to get out of this one, _Peter thought humorlessly.

"Spiderman." Iron Man stated matter-of-factly his tone devoid of emotion.

"Uh, hi there Iron Man s-sir, um how's your day going?" Peter berated his ingrained politeness that made him stammer like an idiot. He nervously shifted his weight off his left leg, easing the pain of the impact.

"Yeah, no time for niceties right now Spiderman. Stop avoiding the inevitable. SHIELD has some questions for you to answer. I will be escorting you to the Avenger's Tower." Iron replied in a mechanical voice.

"What kind of questions?" Peter's senses were on high alert as he looked around the desolate rooftop for an exit. Nothing in sight. He was about three stories off the ground and would need to get higher up for an escape. Deciding to buy himself some time, Peter allowed his anxious mouth to distract a very furious looking Iron Man glaring in front of him.

"I mean my favorite colors are red and blue…not that you couldn't have guessed that.. I like to drink tea, well lots of tea...I don't think you'd have guessed that one." Pausing to catch his breath however before Peter could proceed with his intentionally distracting word vomit, Iron Man started to march forward.

"That's quite enough from you smart mouth." Iron Man said threateningly. "Look webs, don't be diff-." Before Iron Man had finished his sentence, Spiderman webbed his feet to the rooftop and started to slowly pace backward towards the edge.

"Okay, no more Mr. Nice guy." Stark sputtered irritation at the sticky situation.

"That was nice?!" Peter cried while peering over the edge to see if he could jump down. _Nope, too far down to risk injury at the moment. _As Spiderman turned around to spit out one last rebuttal to the arrogant tin can, loud, crackly noise filled his eardrums. Iron Man blasted his full repulsors, melting away the sticky web solution gluing him to the ground. Before Spiderman could finish turning around, he was met with metal and heated repulsors tackling his unexpecting figure.


	4. Chapter 4: Phase Two

**Longest chapter yet, written just for y'all! Lmk how you like the action scene! I usually write more from a more psychological POV :] Warnings: mild language and violence. **

Being tackled onto the solid ground was certainly not something Spiderman had on his bucket list. Especially being tackled by heavy metal and fiery repulsors that had a knack for burning holes. Peter could feel the heat of the day still radiating off the warm concrete rooftop through his spandex suit. Although Iron Man was able to successfully pin Spiderman to the floor of the roof, the squirmy figure wrestled out of his grasp after a fair amount of effort. Peter was panting with exertion by the time he was able to flip Iron Man off his torso and find his footing once again.

Spiderman was now on full defense, his senses humming in anticipation, he slowly retreated with his web-shooters aimed and ready. Peter was beyond frustrated with the situation, these guys just couldn't take a hint.

"What is your problem?! Can't you just leave me alone? I'm not hurting anyone." Spiderman exasperatedly shouted, ducking as Iron Man's repulsors fired at his head once again. His spider senses started to prickle with increasing urgency.

There was absolutely no way he would trust a crude playboy billionaire, Tony Stark, of all people with his identity. He couldn't do that to his friends, well the only two friends he had left—Mary Jane and Ned. Peter knew he lived a precarious lifestyle. His life evolved around pissed off mobsters and bloodthirsty drug dealers. It wasn't an enjoyable perk of the job, but it was a job that needed to be done and Spiderman man was there to accomplish it. In order to keep the people he loved safe, Peter couldn't disclose his identity. After the passing of Aunt May, his two best friends were all he had left. They were the lifeboat that kept him sane with his abusive relatives and self-sacrificing idiotic tendencies. Peter couldn't bear the thought of losing them senselessly to enemies he made as Spiderman.

"If you stop trying to evade my team, we wouldn't have this issue." Iron Man tersely retorted before releasing another fiery shot at Spiderman's feet. Dodging the attack nimbly Spiderman fired web around one of Iron Man's hand gauntlets, successfully clogging the system.

"You little sh—" Stark was cut off before he could properly spit out his venomous words.

"I don't have to answer your questions." Spiderman snapped while trying to catch his breath. Peter was flustered when both hands were firing the heated shots, his stamina was waning, and he could feel sweat dripping through his mask.

Still, Peter felt a small slice of victory in his chest as he could now more easily and avoid the hovering Iron Man with his remaining repulsor. Darting to sidestep another round of shots, Spiderman tacked himself onto a higher part of the roof. He turned around, now all four limbs sticking on the wall, allowing him to see the hovering Avenger at eye level.

That's when his spider senses erupted in danger signals from the base of his neck down through his spine. His eyes could scarcely keep track of the overwhelming sensory input. Iron Man was rapidly speaking into his ear com, all the while keeping his piercing gaze on Spiderman. Peter felt unnerved by the intensity of the heated glare.

Before Spiderman even noticed why his senses were going haywire, his body subconsciously twisted around the roof tip to avoid a black arrow that landed where his shoulders were moments ago. _Shit, Hawkeye is here. Which means Black Widow is here too, somewhere. _Peter was not the type of guy to panic, but he could feel a small pit of fear attached to the walls of his stomach. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Sure, he could take on one or two Avengers on a fully rested good day. However, three superiorly trained combat fighters all at once certainly stretched his confidence and his spider abilities. In addition to his already exhausted energy levels, his calf ached where the arrow nicked him before, the jarring evasive movements did nothing to help the injury.

Hawkeye stood at the far end of the roof, now fully emerging from a door leading up to the location, Black Widow followed suit. Spiderman spared a glance at the pair around the hovering figure, but his temporary loss of focus was the give Iron Man needed to catch him off guard. Iron Man's repulsors blasted Spiderman square in the right hip, knocking him down from his slanted perch with a strangled cry.

The vigilante ungracefully landed on his feet before collapsing forward onto his hands and knees. The stench of burnt spandex material wafted into Peter's nose almost making him gag. His side was on fire, literally. Rapidly beating out the remaining flames with his gloved hand Peter was unable to hold out a low moan of pain. He felt white-hot needles under his charred suit. Peter's chest felt constricted with betrayal, how could these city heroes attack him like this? Sure, some roughhousing was warranted with their disagreement, but this, this was crossing a line of trust for Peter. He would never intentionally want to cause harm to another person, even if they didn't necessarily see eye to eye. This was wrong.

Spiderman lay curled into his right torso, briefly closing his eyes to process the blinding side pain. When Peter opened them again the source of it all was too close for comfort. He was staring up at Iron Man hovering directly over him.

"Gah, s-stop," Spiderman gasped in fear.

Peter reacted with jerky movements in an attempt to scramble further away from his attacker, panting in effort as he tried to not jostle his right torso. To Spiderman's dismay, he sloppily ran straight into Black Widow.

"Spiderman stop struggling, it would be easier for you to be compliant." Black Widow chastised him.

Black Widow assertively wrapped both her arms in a deadlock from behind Spiderman, fully surrounding his figure. Peter could feel his web-shooters digging into his wrists against his lower back. However, in his current position, he was unable to properly fire them without webbing his own arms together. His hands were flat pinned against his back, as Black Widow used her torso to keep him in a tight hold. This greatly restricted the movement Peter needed to unbalance the spy. In blind dread of the pressured hold, Spiderman attempted to kick out Black Widow's legs. He successfully used his flailing lower limbs and was able to knock her off balance. _This is my chance to escape these jerks_, Peter thought hopefully_._ Spiderman threw the entirety of his weight back onto Black Widow, butting heads in the process, and wrenched free of her clamped grip. Although his occipital lobe was painfully pulsating from the hit, it was well worth the blow as Peter once again had use of his arms and web-shooters.

"Stark, STARK. Are you hearing me?" Captain America shouted over the ear com. Steve's voice was ringing in his ear before Tony realized he was so engrossed in the struggle between Black Widow and Spiderman that he momentarily forgot to respond.

"Yes, here, present." Iron Man replied without taking his eyes off the pair.

"Why the heck did you fire repulsors at Spiderman?! We specifically discussed holding back on lethal force unless absolutely necessary. Back off of him now, this was not the plan." He furiously berated Stark.

"Yeah, look, I tried," Iron Man continued as he monitored the hostile showdown between Spiderman and Black Widow.

"Up until that last round, the bug was actually dodging my shots. I just thought I'd tire him out a bit before Clint and Natasha gave him another go. Also, aren't arrows considered lethal?" Iron Man stated flippantly.

Leaning into his com he could hear Steve scoff at his words and then instruct Hawkeye to follow through on phase two, containment. Stark guessed Clint and Steve had been discussing ways to incapacitate the vigilante without too much physical damage to the goods while he was busy playing flame thrower. _No one likes a broken toy, _Tony thought.

"Stark, if Hawkeye wanted to shoot to kill, he would," Captain America paused before considering his next words. "We agreed all agree there is a fine line between injury and fatality. You know your repulsors are powerful enough to cause serious injury and death to a normal person." He spoke in a disappointed tone.

"I know Cap, we'll bring him in alive and kicking, no worries," Stark replied. "I can guarantee you he is still putting on a good show."

Granted, Tony had been physically present at the team meetings but was rarely mentally present unless it was important. _At least the cheeky bastard had guts_, Iron Man thought in amusement as he watched Spiderman headbutt Black Widow.

Momentarily perplexed, Black Widow reached up to her face and wiped off the blood from the corner of her split lip. She threw a withering glare at Spiderman; she was beyond livid. Black Widow was almost never outsmarted by her own games. Without wasting a second, Spiderman directed a blow towards her abdomen successfully making contact and kicking Black Widow back a few feet.

"ты моя Spiderman." Black Widow dangerously murmured.

Spiderman tilted his head at the foreign words, the hairs on the nape of his neck stood in distress at her tone. He sparsely had time to ponder their meaning before blocking her rapid blows aimed at his head and chest. Engrossed in defending the series of blows, Spiderman lost his footing when Black Widow hooked her foot under his left leg.

"What the he— " Peter yelped in a mix of pain and surprise.

Staring down at him, Black Widow whispered "Попался."

It was all happening too fast for Peter. Spiderman was used to having the upper hand in combat, especially when he fought untrained criminals. But the Avengers moved like water; avoiding Peter's blocks and guessing his movements before he could execute them. Reacting on instinct Spiderman threw a web at Black Widow, pinning her arms against her body and then webbed her feet to the ground. She released an angry shout towards Hawkeye. Peter just about had enough of this hostile combat.

The heat radiated from the roof in waves, and Peter felt dizzy from dehydration. His muscles ached from where Black Widow landed her blows, his right pelvis throbbed with tenderness and his calf felt raw. Driblets of sticky blood continued to make its way down his left ankle from the injury. _It's going to be a fun night_, Peter thought in caustic sarcasm.

Hawkeye was digging through a small bag before pulling out a black, round object twice the size of his fist. Meagerly peeking one last glimpse at Iron Man whose attention was still on the other side of the com, Spiderman hastily jumped on the roof ledge preparing for a rapid climbing decent. _Yup, still too far to jump. _Unfortunately, Iron Man had corralled Spiderman into an area with low hanging buildings. Peter just had to get down to the maze of alleyways and narrow passages to lose the entourage. He did not plan to stick around to find out what Hawkeye was planning. Peter could hear his heart pounding as he tried to catch his breath after his Black Widow scuffle.

His suit was now soaked through from the exertion over the past hour. The night was finally starting to cool down as a breeze whistled around his crouched form. Before Peter could swing his figure over the side to make his descent, his spider senses exploded from every direction. Spiderman was already overloaded with sensory information from the adrenaline, but this warning was different. Peter whipped his head over his shoulder to find out what caused his senses to erupt so maddingly.

Iron Man was cutting Black Widow out of the webbing she was tangled in, and Hawkeye had made his way over closer to where Spiderman was perched. Spiderman made brief eye contact with Hawkeye who had a smirk covering his features. Peter heard it before he saw the object propelling rapidly towards him. It was the round weapon Hawkeye had in his hands beforehand, and it was now hurling at an alarming speed to his location. Peter didn't have time to react or shoot down the incoming projectile with webbing. His eyes widened in fear as the object expanded in a net-like fashion and besieged his figure whole.

"Argh—" Spiderman squawked in disbelief as he staggered back, arms grabbing into thin air, and lost his footing on the ledge. The weight of the metal, chain-like net enclosed coldly on Peter as collapse off the roof.


	5. Chapter 5: Webbed

**Made an extra-long chapter for you guys! Please review and lmk how you like it! Warning: minor violence and language. enjoy (:**

Bruce had made his way up from his lab when Steve notified them of the spider chase in action. He was certainly not thrilled to be watching his teammates attacking the city's hero. The vigilante just did what any of them would in reverse situations, avoid danger and protect himself. The pair at the Avenger's Tower had seen the entire event unfold from Iron Man's suit camera, but it was still heart wrenching to watch. Steve and Bruce both didn't want Spiderman injured during their attempt to question him, but the vigilante was being very stubborn and avoiding their attempts to talk. It was clear as day he didn't trust the Avengers.

Bruce understood Spiderman's position. He didn't like people knowing who he really was either. When the other guy decides to come out, trying to put him back in his cage requires delicate bartering. Sometimes the only person who Hulk can trust is Natasha and even that's a stretch for the big guy. He takes a deep breath to steady his beating heart as he sees Spiderman block his body from Black Widow's attack.

Steve shook his head at the scene. This is not how he envisioned their first contact with Spiderman to go. He believed the vigilante would be willing to answer a few questions for SHIELD. Then again, they didn't know anything about the guy so who knows what he thought of the Avenger's organization. That was the problem, they didn't know anything. SHIELD continued to press the Avengers for information they didn't have about the vigilante, they didn't have a choice but to bring in Spiderman.

"Clint, are you in position?" Steve questioned as he watched Spiderman web Black Widow's legs.

"Remind me again why we didn't just tranquilize him in the first place?" Tony questioned while trying to release the sticky webs around Natasha's form.

"There was too much of a risk with his swinging," Bruce piped in, "who knows how long the tranquilizer would take to work if he does have altered DNA, what if he was multiple stories off the ground by the time it became effective?"

"Okay, okay fair point. I get it, he'd be flatter than a bug on a windshield..." Iron Man grumbled shooting a pointed glare at Clint as he released Stark's new invention directly at Spiderman.

"Guys, we might have a small problem," Clint squeaked and then winced at the profanity spewing from Tony's mouth when he saw the missing vigilante.

"Not like falling off multiple stories was exactly avoided," Natasha's head whipped up to the ledge where Spiderman disappeared off of.

"Stark, what's the update on Spiderman," Steve requested, fear edged in his voice. Three heads peered over the roof edge, staring down at the unmoving figure laying on top a yellow cab.

"Well, looks like Clint got the job done alright," Tony answered uneasily.

Hawkeye held his hands up in defense. "Hey, I didn't push Spiderman off the roof! He lost his balance and fell backwards!" He could hear Steve take in a quick breath at the other end of the com.

"Guess your SpiderNet contraption should have packed less of a punch, eh?" Natasha quipped eyeing Stark.

"There were still some design flaws to work out…" Tony muttered unintelligibly.

"Looks like he is starting to move, how is he still moving?" Bruce was the first to notice the change in video.

Bruce watched the red and blue vigilante start sluggishly move his splayed-out limbs. The impact alone from that height would split open the skull of a normal human being. The car windshield was cracked where Spiderman's head had landed, and the roof of the car remained indented from the impact.

"Thank God he is still moving," Steve released a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Transport is 2 minutes out team." Steve took his eyes off the camera screen and looked over at Bruce who gave a grim nod. Phase two was almost complete.

The last thing Spiderman remembered seeing was the dark sky tilt backwards. Peter's web-shooters were encased by metal netting, hindering his attempts to save the fall. He felt the rush of air passing between his trapped, tangled limbs. Peter's breath was caught in his throat. _Is this how the infamous Spiderman would die? Attacked by his childhood heroes and fearing for his secrets?_ Spiderman barely registered the thump of his own body on the parked taxi before blackness took over his vision.

Peter didn't know how much time had passed since his fall as he began to gradually regain consciousness. He began to feel sensation ebb back into the tips of his fingers and toes, with it, throbbing pain. Choking out a strangled wheeze, Peter attempted to draw a breath. Panic gripped his chest, as he tried to draw a full breath unsuccessfully. _Why can I breathe properly?_ He felt like he was breathing through a straw as he heaved another breath trying to suck in as much oxygen possible.

Spiderman lethargically moved his limbs, awkwardly and uncoordinated, trying to flip off the car surface. Peter couldn't seem to connect his brain commands to what he wanted his body to do. He could hear an ever-growing ring in his ear, that combined with a piercing headache, made squeeze his eyes shut in pain. _Why am I on top of a car?_ Spiderman tried to place the fragmented pieces together in his foggy mind. He was patrolling, he saved someone from a mugging. Shooting, people were shooting at him. Who was shooting at him? Then he was on a roof. How did he fall off a roof? Furrowing his brows in confusion he licked his dry, cracked lips.

Peter drew in another rickety breath; it was slightly better than the last one. He could feel his ribs painfully straining in protest at the movement, a quiet whimper escaped his lips. Squinting he tilted his head over the cracked windshield trying to process what he was looking at. Three blurry figures peaking over the roof edge.

Spiderman's eyesight was certainly above that of a normal human, but right now he couldn't get his vision to focus on anything. As realization drew on Peter of what he was looking at he was unable to hold back a petrified sob that caught in his throat.

Peter felt his hearing return in a rush of adrenaline. Alarmed at the realization he was staring directly at the Avengers, Peter once again attempted to roll off the car. The Avengers had hunted him down like a common criminal. They had thrown a freaking metal net on him, which caused him to fall off a three-story building. Peter had repeatedly made it clear he did not want to engage in fighting or really at all with the Avengers. He had every right to decline their intrusive and personal questions. Suddenly, the three heads disappeared back over the roof, that could only mean one thing—they were coming down.

In a spur of fight-or-flight adrenaline, Peter willed his arms and legs to coordinate in a laborious rotation off the vehicle. Spiderman landed roughly on the hard concrete; his body still tangled in the dark netting. Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit Peter, he felt so disoriented. His hip ached in agony at the rotational movement. Peter took a few deep breaths and grit his teeth to manage the pain, now able to take in his situation. _Come on Spiderman, you've been through worse. I think. _Beads of sweat lingered at the rims of his brows underneath his mask. The contraption encasing him was sticking to his suit as if held on by microscopic hooks like two ends of a magnet. _What the hell is this thing?_ Peter shook his arm questioningly, still unable to dislodge the netting.

Now more aware of his spatial surroundings, Spiderman tried to stand up in through the net. He leaned onto the vehicle for support before pitching forward in a loss of balance. _Ugh, why am I so dizzy?_ Peter's ears continued to ring as he tried to get a grip on his coordination to no avail. Hearing sounds of talking echo around the corner Peter started to feel pressured on time.

Iron Man along with Hawkeye and Black Widow suddenly appeared around the corner along with a black cargo van that came to a halt. Spiderman frantically stood up in panic, only to have his knees buckle from another wave of dizziness.

"Ngh, stay a-away!" Peter's words thick on his tongue. His thoughts felt like molasses.

Bright light shined on to Peter's figure from the cargo van, illuminating the three Avengers like dark pillars with light filtering through. Dark fuzzy edges started to encroach Peter's eyesight as he tried to stand up one more time but stumbled onto all fours. Spiderman's senses were buzzing and making his headache worse with every second. Peter's hearing started to fluctuate in an out as his head grew heavy. _I guess this is how Spiderman ends, _Peter felt his grasp on consciousness slip slowly into sweet, dark oblivion as he sank further onto the filthy road.

Iron Man watched the vigilante try to stand up and then fall uncoordinatedly, a tinge of worry in his eyes. _I mean he did just fall off a building_, _frankly he shouldn't be alive,_ he thought grimly.

"Approach him with caution," he heard Captain America speak over the com.

"Spiderman can you hear us?" Black Widow asked carefully, fear was a dangerous motivator. She suspiciously nudged Spiderman's foot, no movement.

"He's out cold," Hawkeye replied, eyeing their transport van. "Let's get him back to headquarters."

Although tempting to unmask the vigilante here and now after their pursuit, the Avengers had previously agreed to bring Spiderman back to the Avenger's compound before proceeding with phase three of the mission: interrogation. Spiderman was gingerly lifted into the cargo van, netting still encasing his still form. Hawkeye and Black Widow followed suit, leaving Iron Man to meet them back at the tower.

Peter felt cold hands gripping his painfully numb body. He tried to hold onto the last thread of consciousness but was unable to for very long. Pain seeped into every crevice of his bones; he could feel heat radiating from the burn on his lower hip. Dizziness plagued his senses and made his world blurry colors. His brain decided to retreat into itself as a defense mechanism for his exhaustion as he processed his injuries. Peter could feel the rumble of asphalt under the car he was moved into. _Huh, when did I get in a car?_ At this point, Peter was too worn out from physical exertion and pain to care where the Avengers were taking him.

Every so often a pothole would jolt Spiderman's figure and elicit a soft moan of pain from the vigilante. Hawkeye watched him with guarded eyes and a hand on his bow. Black Widow averted her eyes from the mess of limbs on the floor of the van, yet every so often would steal a glance at the vigilante.

Before the mission started, SHIELD had made it abundantly clear that if Spiderman was not brought in and questioned about his activities and identity, they would take the matter into their own hands. Insinuating they would capture the vigilante via their own means, to be brought in dead or alive. The Avengers did not agree with this method.

In lieu of this option, Nick Fury, director of SHIELD, gave the Avengers a chance to complete the mission first. Captain America had been adamant about pleading the case of injustice thrown at the vigilante. Spiderman deserved a chance to explain himself before being shot for activities he may not even know the legal consequences of.

"Spider secure, we'll see you in a bit Cap," Iron Man replied as he blasted his half working repulsors and lifted into the air. He rolled his eyes at the thought of having to meticulously unweb the inside of his systems where the sticky stuff got entangled.

"Copy that, over and out." Steve replied, ending the line but maintaining stand by just in case.

He glanced at Bruce who kept scratching notes down during mission, his writing looked more like chicken scratch. Bruce noticed him peer over his shoulder and gave a stiff smile.

"Thought I'd get a head start on compiling information about Spiderman's abilities." Bruce looked down at his yellow notepad.

"Good, anything will help" Steve nodded approvingly, "Spiderman sure put up one heck of a fight back there." He was stunned Spiderman was able to hold his own against three of their teammates for nearly an hour-long struggle.

"Yes, but at what cost?" Bruce replied and sighed unhappily.

Both their heads snapped up at the sound of JARVIS informing them that the transport had arrived with the team a few minutes later. The pair started to make their way down from the control room towards the containment room, it was time to go meet their elusive spider.


	6. Chapter 6: Phase Three

**This next chapter definitely took longer to write than the previous ones! What do you guys think about possibly adding Deadpool into the story? Warnings: mild language and violence.**

Spiderman was brought into a containment room specifically designed to withhold the strength of Hulk. It was meticulously built with a single door for entering and exiting. The Tony decided it would be best for the vigilante to use the room previously designated as Bruce's training during his Hulk sessions. In a previous time, they would probably have put Loki, the God of Mischief in the same holding room. Unfortunately, Thor was currently in Asgard taking care of royal duties and Loki was banished from Earth after his last stunt of attempted world domination.

The team knew from afar Spiderman was able to stick to multiple kinds of surfaces, use strength far greater than that of an average human being, somehow produce web from his wrists, and endorse an incredible amount of flexibility. Bruce was very curious about Spiderman's abilities and hoped to work with him in the future if he so desired. Of course, he would never wish to force the vigilante to do anything he didn't want. He wasn't Hydra. Bruce shuddered at the thought of the rumors he heard about the organization from Steve.

Hydra was slowly coming onto the Avenger's radar as it started to fester in suspicious activities, again. The organization was worse than a cockroach, no matter how many times it was killed or discombobulated, more scientists would eventually crawl up from the gutter. Rumors of an underground lab circulated around the mutants living in New York. Spiderman probably had no idea what kind of twisted people lay beneath the sewers of the buzzing city.

Bruce and Steve met up with Clint and Natasha who waited at the entrance after moving the unconscious Spiderman into the room. Steve watched Tony land in his suit on the patio and casually step out. However, it was not lost on him the enraged expression held in his features.

Catching Tony's eye in his decent, Steve threw him questioning look. "Someone decided to ruin my suit," flashing his eyes, "now I'll have to deal with it manually."

SHIELD had a fairly lengthy list of questions for Spiderman, Steve had hoped to get them answered as quickly as possible to avoid any further headache for either party involved. They would start with simple questions tonight and then proceed with the more complicated questions tomorrow after a more throughout debriefing.

Inside the room, Peter could distantly hear Stark's nasally voice complaining about something through the door. Eyeing the door from his place on the floor, Peter looked for a possible escape. He started to realize it was electric with no door handles after being unable to see a lock. _Whelp, I can't use my lock picking skills._ Squeezing his eyes shut he started to catalog his situation.

He'd been fighting the Avengers. He was brought to the Avengers Tower, or at least he assumed. His Spiderman mask was still in place,_ okay that's a little fishy._ Peter briefly wondered if the mask had been taken off while he was incapacitated but shook the idea off as his senses were quiet at the thought. His head hurt like a mother and he could scarcely move his stiff right side. Fortunately, his calf injury slowed to a sluggish bleed. Besides some other minor cuts and colorful array of bruises, he was fine. At least the raw understatement of fine that all people who are certainly not fine claim outwardly. He was kind of fine, mostly. He had to be fine.

The harsh white light in the room did nothing to calm his anxious nerves. Peter felt as if his sensory input was dialed to the max. The netting encasing his supine form felt like unwanted hands, poking, and prodding at pressure points on his body. The light assaulted his eyes, piercing through to the back of his skull and worsening his headache.

Besides the occasional murmur Peter heard beyond the door the silence was deafening, _the room is definitely soundproof, _he thought. Quiet allowed Peter's mind to wander in the stark white room. _What kind of questions did the Avengers want answered? What would happen to Peter if he decided to not answer them? _A loud gurgle interrupted his jumbled thoughts, making Peter jolt unexpectedly. His stomach decided to remind him he hadn't eaten since lunch and needed food for his healing abilities to kick in, _great, just great._

Peter started to feel his spider senses pulse at the nape of his neck, a soft warning. Shooting a worried glance at the door Peter started to feel panicky. _Was there enough air in this room?_ He wasn't ready for a round two with the Avengers just yet. _Come on Peter, think, think. _His brain couldn't seem to function enough through the fog to come up with a plan for escape. Peter swallowed thickly as he heard a mechanical sound and voices becoming louder.

Suddenly, in a whir of motion, the metal netting rapidly warped itself back into its original round shape. Now formed into a black ball and landed with a light thump between Peter's thighs.

"Ahh, what the—" Peter yelped in surprise at the unexpected physical movement.

Curling into a sitting position to get a better look at the object, Peter winced at the movement before noticing the electric door open. Without waiting any longer, the team entered the room.

Spiderman immediately made eye contact with Tony Stark in the flesh. As if on instinct, Peter's limbs scrambled back into the farthest corner of the room out of fear. The sounds and smells of repulsors firing at his body flashed before his mind as Peter's breathing quickened.

"Relax Spiderman, SHIELD has few questions for you. Just, don't do anything stupid and we won't have a reason to physically restrain you." Stark warned the flighty figure.

Stark continued to walk up closer to the vigilante, leaving about a meter between them. Natasha, Bruce, Steve, and Clint held back closer to the door, waiting and watching the scene unfold.

"How old are you?" Stark interrogated sans introductions, leading with a blasé attitude.

Although not unkind, he was straight and to the point. There was no beating around the bush. Peter blinked upward to the looming façade, head still throbbing from his recent movement. Iron Man was way too close to his personal space, again. Memories of repulsors flashed into his mind as he made eye contact with Stark.

"What day is it?" Peter asked, confused from the trauma and physical strain of the past few hours. _Huh, were his eyes always so out-of-focus?_ Peter slowly blinked to clear his blurred vision to no avail. _At least my mask is still on_, he though bewilderedly.

"June 1st Spiderman," Tony shot off irately in clipped words. He hated when people questioned his questions more questions.

Peter dolefully smiled down at his gloved hands. "It's my birthday," he stated dejectedly before returning a doe-like gaze at Tony Stark who just continued to stare at Peter in confusion. Silence filled the air with a heavy and charged static-like energy.

Alarmed at the personal information he just revealed, Peter flicked his gaze to the rest of the group like deer in headlights as fear bubbled out of his realization. _Did he just give away his identity?_ _No, they couldn't possibly piece together who he was from just his birthdate right?_

"I'm not going to ask you again, how old are you Spiderman?" Tony seethed through his teeth. _Jeez, this is like pulling teeth,_ Stark thought angrily.

Tony scowled at the recoiling figure who scarcely sounded old enough to drive a car. A whisper breathed into the eerie silence of the room. Tony had to replay it in his head to make sure he heard it correctly.

"I'm 18," Peter softly spoke with eyes cast downwards, not trusting his voice to speak any louder.

Was he ashamed of his age? No, certainly not. Yet, the unnerving gazes of five Avengers burned holes straight through his colorfully torn up Spiderman suit. As multiple sounds of surprise echoed from the semi-circle of Avengers, their murmurs lead him to stress even more at the rapidly unfolding situation.

Peter's eyes shifted to spare another quick glance at the Avengers standing on opposite sides of the room. Disappointment clearly plastered on their faces.

Why did they care so much about his age? What would they do to him if they discovered his real identity? Would he go to jail for webbing up criminals? Would they subject him to experimental testing for SHIELD to learn more about his powers? Peter briefly closed his eyes at the disturbing thought and silently prayed he would never find himself in such a situation.

Stark sucked in a sharp inhale, "Dammit Spidey."

Hawkeye furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the number. Natasha momentarily softened her gaze towards Spiderman before schooling her expression back to its regular poker-face.

Peter felt a soft, embarrassed blush creep onto his cheeks as he tried to keep exhausted tears from making an appearance, not that they could see his facial expressions. _He was royally screwed_. Peter felt like a child whose hand was caught in a cookie jar.

Captain America, still with his full gear on, had a look between guilty concern and shock for the spaced-out vigilante. Bruce winced at the sight before him just now taking in the physical injuries caused by his teammates. Spiderman looked more like a kicked puppy than a cornered vigilante.

Peter was officially an adult. Officially able to be charged as an adult. _Great day to get caught Parker, just blame it on rotten Parker luck._ He allowed his head to loll down to his chest. _God he was tired, and in his whole body throbbed in pain._ _Also, why was it so cold in the room?_

Peter tried to even out his nervous breaths, hoping to find any ounce of bravery he had left in his battered body. Anxiety coursed through his veins, leaving his muscles taut like a string as he waited for anger or shouting, anything.

Steve sighed regrettably "Oh bud," before glancing up at Tony who was still standing with his mouth agape.

Steve tore his gaze between Peter's rigid form pressed into the corner of the room and the shocked stares plastered on the rest of the Avenger's faces. Without any further conversation, Stark impassively strode out of the room. All the Avengers begrudgingly followed suit, leaving a confused Spiderman to process their actions.

"How the hell did we not get a confirmed age on this guy beforehand? JARVIS what was the previously calculated age range for Spiderman," Stark demanded angrily from his AI.

"We averaged 25-30 years of age, sir." JARVIS informed, chipperly oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

"Shit!" Tony shouted in frustration as he slammed his hand against the wall.

"Yeah," Steve replied in a soft voice, shaking his head. "How did we get it so wrong?" A guilty look plagued his eyes.

The American hero paced around the room and ran a hand through his hair in a loss for words. They attacked a minor. Where were his parents? Did they know he was Spiderman? Steve paced with apprehension of the situation they found themselves in. SHIELD would be thrilled.

"Oh my God, I shot a kid." Clint rested his hands on his knees, looking green with disgust. Clint felt like puking at the thought of hurting a child, he himself had kids and would never fathom such a thing.

"There was nothing in his file. No information to suggest otherwise." Natasha offered quietly. She stood silently, processing the new information about Spiderman.

Bruce placed a gentle hand on Clint's shoulder, "You didn't know Clint."

His eyes looked up at each of their distressed faces. "None of us could have guessed he was just a kid," the scientist said softly, taking another glimpse at the room Spiderman was being held in.

Steve cleared his throat, "Spiderman looked pretty roughed up in there, we should make sure he doesn't need urgent medical attention." He saw the team nod in agreement as they frequently stopped by the medical wing after missions.

"I'll go," Bruce interrupted, "I have the most medical expertise out of all of us. Plus, I haven't caused any of his injuries," he added sullenly. The three Avengers shared remorseful looks across the room as they avoided his eyes.

While attempting to control his alter ego in the past, Bruce had learned a lot about pain management and controlling his emotions in dangerous situations. Although he never actually went to medical school for a medical doctorate degree, he had significant medical training with the Avengers. The basics of suturing, wound care, and emergency field procedures were common occurrences after risky missions. Bruce couldn't count the numerous times he had fished out bullets and removed chunks of debris from his teammates.

Steve gave Bruce a brisk nod, "I'll wait outside in case you need anything."

As the team leader, Steve decided it was best for the rest of the Avengers to debrief and take a breather from the Spiderman situation. The team agreed it would be best to brainstorm what to do with him and tackle it in the morning after both sides had some time to recollect themselves.

Now all Steve had to do was figure out how to tell Nick Fury that an 18-year-old teenager outsmarted three of the world's finest heroes for weeks on end before being forcefully brought in against his will. _That's going to be a fun phone call,_ Steve mused. He was flustered at the mess of the situation; it was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Steve silently watched Bruce gather up different pieces of medical equipment and gave the scientist a quick nod before he entered the room.


	7. Chapter 7: Trust

**Peeks out from behind a pillow...holding a white flag...I'm back guys! Life decided to resurrect itself and I needed to deal with lots this past month due to COVID-19. I hope all you guys are safe and healthy. And, is it really a coincidence I posted today? Erh, cough, cough, it's Tom Holland's birthday! Don't forget to read and review! Enjoy :)**

Peter furrowed his brows at seeing Iron Man's hasty retreat from the room. The rest of the Avengers followed suit, leaving him with more questions than answers for their peculiar behavior. Granted, Peter was relieved to have been left alone again. His heightened senses finally calmed from the muddled bombardment of buzzing he'd experienced when his attackers entered the room earlier unannounced.

He still couldn't see how his age was such a big factor in the whole scheme of things. Peter had been taking up his nightly Spiderman activities since he was 14. Sure, he was a tad young, but he wasn't a child anymore._ Welp, not since today at least. Worse day ever to be brought in by the Avengers. Hopefully, I can get out before the day is over to see Ned and MJ._ Sighing Peter remembered promising them they'd hang out in the evening.

Glancing around the whitewashed room Peter began to take inventory of his current location more thoroughly. Automatic electric door, with no handles, _check_. What Peter thought looked like a two-way mirror next to the door opening, although he couldn't be sure,_ creepy check_. Tilting his head upwards Peter saw moderately heightened ceilings._ I can work with that._ Wincing from the blossoming bruise on the back of his head, Peter gingerly shifted his head back down. He frowned at the lack of air vents on the ceiling, crossing out another potential escape route.

Shifting into a slightly more comfortable position on the floor, Peter could hear muffled steps bypass the door once more. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of who would enter the room; this time he would be ready. _No more surprises._ Peter thought back to the metal net's unraveling and the sudden onslaught of people in the room. He shuddered with anticipation.

In slow, jerky movements, Peter used both his hands and the heels of his feet to climb up the wall until he reached the ceiling corner. His chest heaved from the exerted effort. After reaching the top, he released a shaky breath and grimaced at his throbbing side. Normally, Spiderman could climb and hold positions with ease for hours on end while staking out criminal activity. However, this was not in a normal situation. Nothing about being attacked by your childhood heroes was normal. _That's going to be fun coming to terms with. _

Albeit, his definition of normal is being involved with taking down violent crime and drug rings in the sketchiest parts of New York, but even then, Peter maintained a collected façade. He always had a mask and kept his personal information under wraps. Most of the time he spent patrolling the city Spiderman dealt with low life criminals who waved handguns like toddlers and thieves who thought they could outrun the vigilante.

Today though, Spiderman was done. Gripping the surface, a little tighter with the tips of his fingers, Peter could feel his body tremble with effort at holding the position. From his heightened angle, Peter felt a little more in control of the situation at hand. No Avenger could physically reach him, not to take his mask, launch metal nets, or to manhandle him. Peter didn't know how he had gotten into the room but certainly didn't like the idea of being carried by the Avengers. It was such a breach and invasion of his own privacy and personal space.

He was angry. He was in pain. Stopping mid-thought, Peter and rolled his eyes at the gurgling sound. And he was very hungry. Like really, hungry. Pressing his lips together he gathered his thoughts, technically that made him hangry. _Yup, definitely hangry and done with today._

Feeling a glint of anger, Peter realized he hadn't even been told what charges were held against Spiderman. But how could he forget the whole "SHIELD needs to ask you questions for public safety reasons" monologue that spewed from the Avengers. They had his age, Peter's real age. Spiderman had people to protect, people he loved and cared for more than anything in the world. People who he could count the number of on one hand. Something about getting your heart ripped out of your chest enough times makes you hold on to the remaining pieces a little tighter. He would never betray them by revealing his identity, government agency, or the Avengers.

All thoughts of sustenance were forgotten for Peter at the now rapidly growing sounds of footsteps approaching the room. Outside the door Bruce cast a glance at his smartwatch, it was June 1st, 12:22 am, he sighed. The scientist pushed his glasses higher onto his nose from where they had previously slipped down. It had been a very, long day.

The morning went off without a hitch as the scientist worked in his lab and had a quiet lunch. The afternoon picked up with the sightings of Spiderman and eventually the evening mission overtook the rest of his night. After Tony lost his composure and bailed in anger at the kid, Bruce decided it would be best if he tried to smooth things over with Spiderman. He watched his flustered teammates retreat into their separate quarters at the Stark tower before approaching the containment room with his first aid kit at hand. Steve gave him a curt nod as he waited on standby with JARVIS's security armed at the ready, Bruce took a deep breath and proceeded into the room holding Spiderman.

Trust.

What is trust? Trust is confidence and security in the actions of another human being. Trust is the complete and utter belief of said human being's goodness. Trust is sleeping next to another person and recognizing they will not harm you during this vulnerable state. Trust is allowing someone to hold your broken pieces to keep you together. Trust is a complex human emotion.

Peter certainly did not trust Dr. Bruce Banner who nervously shuffled into the room. Dr. Banner raised his eyes to the corner where Spiderman had planted himself for security.

"Hi there Spiderman," Bruce paused to gauge a reaction, nothing but Spiderman's wide eyes staring back at him.

He calmly continued, "I noticed you looked a little worse for wear. A-and wanted to see if you needed any medical attention." He drew a breath, and berated himself for stuttering, it was a nervous habit.

"I'm fine. Thanks." Peter didn't miss a beat with his response.

Nope, he did not trust the Avenger. Even if Dr. Banner was a super neat scientist with captivating research on gamma radiation._ Jeez Peter can you fangirl any harder?_ He thought about how many of Dr. Banner's papers he had read. All of them. He had read all of them. Still, that didn't excuse the scientist's involvement, or lack thereof in his detainment.

With a hint of irritation Peter broke the awkward silence, "Listen, I don't know what kind of good cop, bad cop game the Avengers are playing but I deserve to know the charges I'm being held on. This is absurd considering I haven't actually committed any crimes, but I stopped them from happening!" Peter allowed some anger to seep into his voice.

Maintaining his composure, Bruce carefully chose his words. "Spiderman, your age complicates matters with SHIELD. Considering your current age of 18, you would have technically been a minor when your activities appeared on SHIELD's radar." Peter tensed at the sound of his raw age actually being spoken out loud but listened intently to the man in front of him.

"Theoretically, since you were an uninformed minor with good intentions while pursuing your vigilante activities, you wouldn't be lawfully held accountable for your ignorance of SHIELD rules and policies for super or genetically enhanced individuals." Dr. Banner paused to see if Spiderman had any questions before continuing on.

"The Avengers believe SHIELD will drop the charges against you, but we are still processing information with our current point of contact, and unfortunately until then we will have to keep you detained." Glancing upwards, Bruce could make out a fine tremble in Spiderman's form sticking to the wall. _That's not good,_ Bruce thought worriedly.

"Right. So, I am a stuck here indefinitely," Spiderman replied, his voice raw and set as if making up his mind.

"Temporarily, yes." Dr. Banner looked remorseful down to his shoes but said nothing more.

Peter had certainly already made up his mind to escape as soon as humanly possible. _Maybe I could overpower one of them and push my way through the door?_ Feeling a sharp, painful twinge of his hip, _or maybe not_, he contemplated while rebalancing his unsteady wall sticking form. His heart was still hammering in his chest while he processed the new information about his situation.

Peter didn't know if he had the stamina to be angry much longer, much less at his idol that hadn't directly harmed him. At this point, he was too tired to care. Closing his eyes briefly, he used the moment to soothe his pulsating headache and tried to clear his vision once more by blinking slowly. Although he still endorsed some occasional blurriness to his sight, Peter's ability to focus his eyes had mostly come back.

"Could I take a quick look at your injuries Spiderman?" Peter heard Dr. Banner's muffled voice through his foggy brain activity.

"Why should I trust you?" His voice guardingly somber, but valid to Bruce.

For the first time, the scientist was at a loss for words. _Why should the kid trust an Avenger whose team basically kidnapped the vigilante not even an hour prior? Darn kids and their difficult and sticky questions._ Bruce wanted the kid to trust him but given the situation, it would a little trickier than bribing him with snickers and lollipops. _Where is Clint when you need his stupid ideas? What did teenagers like nowadays? Money, loud music, lots of fast food? God being old sucked sometimes._ Bruce couldn't believe how out of touch he grew with modern teenagerism. So, he decided to reboot to the only thing he felt very comfortable talking about at length: his life research works.

"I could tell you a bit about my research work here with the Avengers," Bruce threw out the rebuttal before he could change his mind. He was still a tad shy about bragging or showing others his ideas.

"Okay." Spiderman's soft voice took Bruce by surprise. Peter bit his lip nervously at the agreement.

"Oh, great." Bruce mentally palmed himself at his lack of people skills.

"Well, I started out at Harvard, a beautiful girl, Betty Ross encouraged my interest with gamma radiation research. I eventually enlisted in a military research group that was trying to create immunity against excessive radiation, specifically for super soldiers. Of course, this was well before SHIELD contacted me…" Bruce continued to babble in growing ease as Spiderman watched him warily.

Peter was dazed that his favorite researcher of all time was basically giving him a private interview of his life story and works. Not the best timing but he listened cautiously, holding back on his admiration for fear of being too trusting. Peter listened very carefully to Dr. Banner. Slowly, he felt the buzzing hyperactive senses relax at the nape of his neck. His adrenaline was no longer dialed to a ten.

Peter felt his body melt closer against the wall as he listened to Dr. Banner's life work. He continued to watch the scientist become more expressive with each passing minute as he started talking with his hands and occasionally push his glasses up his nose. _Maybe he isn't like the others_, Peter mused with interest. Gingerly, Peter began to inch his way down the wall.


	8. Chapter 8: Aye-Aye Capt'n

**hi lovelies, I have a short and sweet chapter here for you guys. But do not despair, a much longer chapter is finished and will also be released soon! Read, review, and enjoy!**

Attempting to reach your boss in the middle of the night was certainly not how Steve envisioned his night—erh, now morning—to go. The flurry of Spiderman activity placed a hold on the American hero's tracking of the underground facility called Hydra. In lieu of his usual evenings, Steve commanded the Avengers on a heated pursuit against their ever-elusive vigilante, leading to the success of Spiderman's detainment.

His new mission of the night was to contact the one-eyed man in charge of the Avenger's team, Nicholas Joseph Fury, aka Fury. A rather intimidating spitball of fire he now had the pleasure of dealing with very, very early in the morning. Stifling a large yawn Steve, assumed this was the time when most normal humans were halfway to REM sleep. Then again, he wasn't most humans. Although he seriously doubted the rest of his teammates were resting peacefully after Spiderman revealed he was literally just an overgrown kid, nope, definitely not with the new spider in the tower.

Steve was not the biggest fan of Nick Fury. The Avengers were just now beginning to recover from the disaster called the Raft imprisonment status post the Sokovia Accords. Unfortunately, the idea of being controlled by the United Nation backed by 117 countries, created a major drift between himself and his fellow teammates. It was a fiasco.

No one necessarily liked the idea of relinquishing the private Avenger's organization to be supervised under a panel of UN delegates who were deemed to be superior in decision making—_apparently,_ Steve huffed. The team was only beginning to trust each other once more. _What a funny word—trust_. More like tolerate each other for the sake of world peace, _yeah that's it,_ he mused. Spiderman was just caught in the larger web of controlling politics.

In the whole scheme of things, Tony was certainly a complicated warp of emotions. That was a prickly pear Steve was still working to smooth over, maybe even make amends with one day. It was a slow-going process. Tony was angry at Steve's choice to not sign the accords and had a severe tendency to hold grudges against those who opposed his own decisions.

Less then half an hour ago Steve watched Bruce enter the containment room where Spiderman was being detained for the time being. There hadn't been any commotion or an appearance from the big guy, it was a good sign. Maybe his teammate would get the vigilante to talk more about when and how he obtained his spider-like powers. They would need that information before Spiderman could be cleared for release as non-threatening by SHIELD.

The teen had guts, Steve thought remorsefully. Spiderman defended himself against some of the world's most intimidating and powerful individuals.

He was intelligent, incredibly intuitive, and yet remarkably inexperienced. He was a kid fighting his heroes. Steve notice Spiderman pull his punches and purposefully evade rather than counterattack with force. It was almost as if he was more afraid of hurting the Avengers than properly defending himself.

Suddenly, Steve was immensely glad he and Bruce had been at the Avenger's tower during the mission. Reviewing footage from the multi-Avenger confrontation highlighted that Spiderman was mostly on the defensive side. It was good for his case when presented to SHIELD later that morning. Steve also noticed Clint and Stark desperately needed a reminder they were actually on the same team. Granted, emotional maturity was never either of their strengths.

Shaking his head at the disjointed coordination and lack of communication between the two, Steve let out a long sigh. The lack of trust between the Avengers made them look sloppy and careless throughout the mission. The Accords had certainly instilled a rift throughout the team. Natasha seemed to be the only thing keeping them from actively insulting or tearing each other apart while in the same room.

Shuddering, Steve had wished their sources had more information on Spiderman before their SHIELD mission turned into a semi-kidnapping, _literally_. _Too late to dwell on the past now_, Steve continued to stare at the Stark phone in his hand. Deciding to bite the bullet, he pressed the call button to dial for the Director of SHIELD.

[Calling Nick "eye-patch" Fury].

A sleep drugged voice answered with various notes of sharp irritation.

"This better be good, Captain."


	9. Chapter 9: The Patient

**yellow, yes, I'm back within the week as promised! enjoy friends. R&R!**

Peter finally made his way down to the white tiled floor. His gaze relaxed at the sight of the researcher delving into his most recent innovative studies. Although still at guard with the new room occupant, Peter decided he liked the real Dr. Banner. There is only so much one can infer from reading research articles.

Shifting his body into a contrapposto stance, Peter leaned heavily against the wall to support the remainder of his weight. He felt the exhaustion from the whirlwind of events begin to encase him in a thick lead blanket as he listened to the hum of Dr. Banner's voice.

"-and that's how I ended up meeting Tony Stark who as a fellow technological research genius allowed me to use his labs to further pursue my gamma stud-" halting mid-sentence, Bruce paused.

Turning his head to one side, he listened for the peculiar sound he heard. _Was that a growl?_

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Spiderman in confusion. Peter's cheeks flared with embarrassment under his mask at the thought of his obnoxiously gurgling stomach. He subconsciously wrapped a hand around his middle at the whale-like sound of his complaining organs.

"Spiderman" a voice calmly prodded Peter's gnawing mind, "Are you hungry?" Dr. Banner inquired curiously.

"Yeah," internally wincing at his deflated voice, Peter shrugged off his embarrassment, "I m-mean, kind of…"

Bruce let a subtle grin peek through at Spiderman's answer, of course, the kid was hungry. He was a teenager. They were always hungry. _Duh, come on Bruce get it together._

Did he just discover more important information about their vigilante? Spiderman might have an enhanced metabolism to keep up with his web-slinging activities, maybe something similar to Steve's advanced metabolism. The scientist filed away the hoard of questions to a back burner in his mind. He had come in the room with a mission, to see if Spiderman's injuries required any medical aid.

"How about I make you a deal," pausing as he saw Spiderman's head tilt curiously questioning his words, "you let me check over your injuries and I'll bring you some food."

Simple bartering request, right? Dr. Banner held his breath. He was never a very good bargainer, except for that one time in Florence where he successfully haggled for an Italian leather bag.

"Fine," the small figure replied in tired defeat after quickly pondering his options.

To be fair, Peter did think the deal was too good to be true, but if he was going to be stuck in this prison cell of a tower he might as well not be hungry while waiting for SHIELD's verdict on his nightly activities. Plus, he was currently numbered and outmatched. _Ugh, how on earth am I going to get out of here in time for my birthday plans with Ned and MJ?_

Bruce let out a small breath he was holding in anticipation. He didn't actually think Spiderman would let him get near him considering how flighty the arachnid seemed. How the hell did he get Spiderman trust the scientist in his personal space when his teammates spent the entire evening trying to even catch the arachnid? Whatever he did, he was happy it worked.

Trust was a magnificent thing Bruce still couldn't quite wrap his head around. He was glad to obtain even a sliver of Spiderman's trust; God only knew how cautious his judgment must be after being physically trapped and detained by the Avengers.

"Good, alright then. Can you sit down for me?"

Dr. Banner motioned to the floor where he carefully kneeled and began to lay out the contents of his first aid bag. Ruffling through its amalgam of items, he slowly pulled out an array of medical equipment.

Spiderman gingerly lowered himself to the floor and sat with his right leg stretch out front. He curled his left leg into his chest nervously. Peter furred his brows at the dull ache still radiating from his side.

Peter wearily eyed the contents being taken out of the bag but made no move to retreat from where he decided to plop down. Bruce ran through a list in his head: distilled water, alcohol-free cleansing wipes, scissors, sterile gauze dressing, antiseptic cream, and butterfly band-aids.

Not for the first time, Peter was exceedingly glad for his accelerated healing abilities. His arrow injury clotted and was on the verge of mending together the jagged gash. Unfortunately, his headache was still persistent, although thankfully the nausea and blurry vision had already subsided. _Reminder to self, do not confront three Avengers between the roof ledge and the sidewalk. That was really dumb Parker, it was a pancake of a disaster. _

Rearranging his position, Peter withheld a hiss between his teeth, there were definitely bruises around his torso from his little Black Widow escapade. _Gosh, Dr. Banner has so many things in that little bag._ Spiderman knew very little about medical equipment with the exception of the most basic first aid kits.Twitched anxiously as he tried to block out his heart's dull thud filling his frontal lobe.

Watching the Spider rest his head on his knee, Bruce took the opportunity to take a closer at the figure's burnt and torn suit. He was furious at the thought of Stark's repulsors directly firing at the vigilante but simmered his anger to focus at the task at hand.

Dr. Banner decided to begin with Spiderman's semi-charred side. Wincing at the gnarly sight, Bruce examined the melted spandex-like material still clinging to his figure.

Peter keenly watched the man pick up a small bottle of clear liquid. As a kid, he was never fond of the doctor visits his Aunt May would drag him to before each school year. Every couple of semesters Peter Parker would receive vaccine boosters and physical exams he'd absolutely detested.

_All the poking and prodding of cold and pointy things,_ Peter shuddered at the thought. Not that he had trypanophobia or anything,_ because being afraid of small pointy objects would just be silly_, _definitely not what a super-enhanced Spider would fear._

Logically, Peter spent hours meticulously researching the biology behind vaccines and found it to be one of the forefront medical inventions of the 18th century. Spiderman stiffened as he noticed Dr. Banner approached his space with the clear bottle in hand.

"Okay Spiderman, I am going to lightly flush the burned area with water to remove any dirt or charred materials. Once I clean out the debris, we'll let the area dry and then put some antiseptic cream to prevent any infections from setting in. Is this alright with you?"

The scientist paused, waiting for verbal confirmation before treating his patient.

Glancing down at his lower right side, Peter noticed redness and inflammation where the repulsor beam hit above his hip bone. He saw slices of his suit torn and sticking to his raw burn wound.

The sight made his heart flutter, Spiderman gave Dr. Banner a small yes and nod of permission to continue. He might be super genetically enhanced, but he was still human. His humanity meant he was still ever so often humbled by the flu and bodily infections._ The pesky new strains of the flu just never stopped mutating._

Peter screwed his eyes shut when Dr. Banner moved closer with the bottle in hand. Spiderman wished, not for the first time today, that his hyperactive senses would just go die in a hole. He felt everything. Everything was too loud and too close.

He could hear Dr. Banner's accelerated heart and steady breaths. Peter could also hear his own irrational heart thumping within its cage. _It's fine. It's fine, everything will be fine. Just play it cool Parker. Do not freak out in front of Dr. Banner, he not even a real doctor. I mean, technically._

Praying Dr. Banner wouldn't notice the minuscule tremors coursing down his figure, Peter steadied his mind with a deep breath. There were no needles here, he would be fine. He just had to occupy his mind with something else while Dr. Banner checks him over. It would be quick and hopefully painless. _Think Parker, think of anything! Star Wars, the Death Star. Ned, his nerdy best friend he loved to pieces. Science, chemistry, webs, biology, ah bingo!_

In the past, Peter had found a way to psychologically trick his own brain into believing the doctor's office was good. Mostly good, _which in reality it is and I'm just a microwaved chicken nugget at best_.

While studying his arachnid self in biology books, Peter's curiosity took him down all sorts of interesting paths of discovery. One method he used to distract his nerves in stressful office visits was to scientifically work through biological concepts. For example, why vaccines were important, biologically speaking.

Vaccines are used worldwide to prevent deadly diseases. They do this by reducing the risk of infection while working with the human body's natural immunity to fight against diseases.

The human body is often invaded by germs such as viruses and bacteria which attack and infiltrate the body's system. Peter paused, thinking of how similar the bacteria and viruses were to Darth Vader and Palpatine's armies in Star Wars.

He recalled reviewing his AP Biology course materials and studying macrophages, b-lymphocytes, and t-lymphocytes, aka defensive white blood cells of the body. They were the good guys, like Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. The macrophages literally swallow germs and dead cells, while leaving behind antigens. _Not necessarily a lightsaber-wielding Jedi, like Luke Skywalker, but still pretty neat defensive cells_.

Antigens are then identified as intruders, it is where b-lymphocytes, the good guys, come into the scene with their production of anti-bodies used to attack the antigens. Peter loved creating the massive epic battles between white blood cells and the stormtrooper-like germs in his mind. Ultimately, vaccines help develop the body's immune system, as it learns how to fight the disease or enemy like in Princess Leia Organa's case at the Battle of Endor. _I mean, galactic freedom is an important matter. Granted, so are anti-bodies._

Using these pictorial mnemonics is what helped Peter study for his AP exams before graduation. It might also be a not so secret way for Peter to calm his frayed nerves near unknown medical apparatuses. Breaking his chain of thought, Spiderman flinched in surprise at the cold water being drizzled onto his inflamed burn.

Muttering a quick "Sorry", Bruce made a mental note to proceed slowly.

Dr. Banner noticed a large portion of superficial first degree burns and a few areas with already fading second-degree burns. He was amazed at the lack of damage; it was not normal at all.

Bruce had been expecting third-degree burns, severe skin boils, and possibly nerve damage from the direct repulsor blast. _There are SO many questions I want Spiderman to answer if he chooses to answer them of course._ Bruce's inquisitiveness was hushed at the site of an extremely still vigilante.

Noticing Spiderman's discomfort, Bruce deciding to start talking through his actions to avoid any painful surprises.

"-unstick the last piece of fabric…" Spiderman was half-listening "-use some antiseptic cream to prevent infec-" and half falling asleep from exhaustion. Even so, he nodded as the scientist spoke to him in a soft tone.

Peter noticed his senses quieted as Dr. Banner explained what he was doing and the equipment he would use. _Phew, nothing sharp_. The irrational buzzing at the back of his neck all but dissipated as he allowed Dr. Banner to move on and clean his now dried bloodied calf.

Peter was given the options of stitches or the butterfly band-aide, which was a no brainer to him knowing the injury would be nearly fully healed in a few days. Thankfully, the Steri-Strips, aka butterfly band-aids worked to pull together the split skin once Dr. Banner cleaned off and sterilized the tender injury.

Peter felt the time tick in molasses-like fashion, in what was really about 15 minutes of Dr. Banner asking simple questions. He nodded and shook his head accordingly.

All that remained was Peter's annoying headache_. Luckily my blurry vision cleared before the researcher came into the room._ _Finally, I'll be able to get some food and maybe keep it down._

"Spiderman, there is one more thing I need to take a look at before I go and let you rest," Dr. Banner spoke hesitantly as if afraid to ask Peter his final question.

"I noticed you endured some head trauma. Do you have any symptoms of nausea or dizziness? More importantly, do you have a headache?" He questioned with a guilty look.

"Uh, maybe. Why?" Spiderman begrudgingly answered.

He was well aware of the dangers of a concussion, considering his nightly activities. Peter was nearly positive he had a concussion.

"I'm afraid you might have a mild to severe concussion from your fall and would really feel more comfortable if I could check your pupils to rule out neuro dam-" before finishing his sentence, Bruce was cut off.

"No," Spiderman heatedly refuted.

"I won't take my mask off!" The vigilante nervously squirmed backward with unease.

Peter tried to put as much distance as the room allowed between him and the kneeling scientist. He would not remove his mask, not under any condition unless he was physically forced. It was the only thing keeping him from the world. It kept his life in a somewhat normal cosmic order considering all things.

How foolish Peter was feeling. Was it all a gimmick to get him to reveal his identity? Did Dr. Banner just butter him up with his research and provide him aid simply to get into his head. _I'm so naïve to think he actually cared._

Was that all the Avengers wanted? To get Spiderman to remove his mask when he was tired, weak, and injured? Surely not, right? _Gah, I can't think straight with this damn headache._ Spiderman's hand clutched the side of his head where the pain flared with his movement.

"That's okay, Spiderman, I want to make it clear," _welp, here it comes_, Peter braced himself.

"I won't force you to do anything you don't want to," Bruce reassured the retreating vigilante.

_What? _Peter was confused and simultaneously relieved at the words. Dr. Banner had a pitting look in his eyes as he watched Spiderman withdraw in obvious distrust.

"Just let me know if that headache worsens or if you start to endorse any vision changes, alright?" Dr. Banner cautiously warned but made no other remarks about removing Spiderman's mask.

Spiderman's nod was scarcely noticeable, but Bruce was satisfied. Lowering his hand from his head to his stomach, Peter placed aside his confused thoughts in lieu of the renewed hunger pangs.

"Can I get some food now?" A whispered breath asked cautiously.

Peter cringed at the slight nausea of built-up hydrochloric acid in his stomach. He was actually very excited at the prospect of food. Any food really. _I would just about skip a cat tree rescue for a burger._

"How about I go see what I can scrounge up at this hour?"

The researcher winked happily at the vigilante whose body was once again was pressed tight against the corner. _Well, at least he didn't climb up the wall again. It was disheartening and simultaneously impressive with a dash of creepy. _Bruce had never seen Spiderman up close until tonight, much less watch the arachnid climb a wall at such close proximity.

The scientist noticed how jumpy the vigilante's behavior had become. It was unsurprising how flighty he was considering how protective Spiderman was towards his identity.

Bruce quickly repacked his medical supplies without making eye contact with the Spider. He was acutely aware of his every move being watch and analyzed. Spiderman's eyes continued to follow Dr. Banner as he picked up the unused gauze and methodically rearrange his first aid kit.

Bruce was very pleased with his Spiderman interaction. _I think, with time, I'll be able to get the kid to start actually trusting me. He was fairly spooked initially but eased out a little. Whelp, some trust is better than nothing._

It was a successful visit, he made sure Spiderman was physically healing and not in any immediate distress. _It is incredible how Spiderman's wounds were already healing by the time I arrived._

Giving the vigilante a brisk nod, Dr. Banner cautiously exited the room. He watched Spiderman critically for any suspicious behavior before opening the automatic door. With no movement to note an attempted escape, Bruce left the room.


	10. Chapter 10: Alone

**hiya, here is a short and sweet chapter for you guys! I have a much longer chapter in the works but felt this one would be a good stand-alone. enjoy, and as always read review! I love hearing feedback and input from anyone, guests included!**

Peter had to admit, the Avenger's Tower had decent food._ I should probably be suspicious of anything they may have put in the chicken sandwich, but at this point, I'm too hungry to care. As Rhett Butler would say, frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. Not that I'd ever be that dramatic with my Spiderman exits, but who knows?_

He proceeded to lick the left-over crumbs that still lingered around his gloved thumb. If his Aunt had been there to see his dreadful manners he would be in hot water. _Why did you have to leave so soon Aunt May?_ Frowning as he pushed away the memory, he looked down at his appearance. His spandex suit was semi-trashed at this point. Rips and tears littered his torso and extremities, not to mention the hole burned into his side. _How flattering_. Peter rolled his eyes in dismay.

With his stomach at least half full after the sandwich he gobbled down in haste, Spiderman clumsily pulled down the mask that was edged between his nose and mouth. He had previously lifted the hem right above his lip while turning away from the glass panels in order to consume the food Bruce had dropped off.

Sleep was anchoring down his eyelids as a muffled yawn escaped his lips. Taking a sweeping glance around the room and then a peek at his web-shooters, Peter decided he would make an impromptu hammock given that the room was void of all other furniture.

Unfortunately, both of his web-shooters sustained damage during his game of defense with the Avengers. Rolling and flexing both of his wrists, Peter noticed the web-shooter on his left wrist was completely crushed.

Sighing he dejectedly attempted to shoot a web from his spinnerets, hoping for anything to project out, only to have his suspicion confirmed as an uncoordinated spray of webs emerged from his wrist. Ignoring his busted left wrist web-shooter, Spiderman attempted to fire his right wrist, web-shooter.

A thin, but nonetheless, powerful web shot out of his right wrist spinneret. Relief filled Peter's tightened chest, as he had thought both of his web-shooters were done for.

When first discovering his powers, the freakiest of them all was his newfound ability to organically produce webs. Located on the soft, fleshy underside of his wrists, penny length slits developed into spinnerets—the same openings spiders have in their abdomens.

While firing his webs, Spiderman needed something to dictate the speed and direction of his webs or else various tangled fragments would spew out in every direction. Without his working web-shooters, which provided the mechanics that allowed him to aim and fire webs accurately, Peter's organic webs would be less accurate than silly string._ And probably would look just as weird,_ he thought dejectedly. Even after a few years of practicing and becoming accustomed to the feeling of webs literally coming out of his wrist, Spiderman still occasionally felt like an outsider. _Like a freak._

Subconsciously rubbing where the damaged web-shoot had dug into his spinnerets, Spiderman crawled up to the heightened ceiling corner once again but this time he actually faced the wall. Sticking a few lines on both sides of the adjacent corners, a small cocoon-like hammock was sloppily fashioned.

"Finally," Peter whispered to himself.

Gingerly lifting his battered torso and curling his knees into his chest, Peter released a weary sigh as he nestled into his silky cocoon. A small haven in the nook of the cell-like room.

The vigilante sighed in irritation as the new position put a strain in new places of his body. Shifting in the cocoon for a more comfortable position, a low moan slipped Peter's lips before he found a more supportive position. _There, that's much better._

Without realizing the lights had been dimmed slightly from their previous piercing brightness, Peter gave a silent thanks as his headache started to ease. Feeling safe for the moment, with his semi-satisfied stomach ceasing its growls, Spiderman closed his eyes. A wave of darkness took over his exhausted form as he slipped into blissful, dreamless, sleep.


	11. Chapter 11: Deadpool

**back so soon? yep yup! I worked out the direction of the fic and am super excited to bring you guys more! Lots more Spidey in the next chapter. enjoy! and as always read & review. Your guys' comments warm my heart!**

"Yes sir, I understand," Steve replied drily to Nick Fury as he took another sip of his coffee that morning. Without another word, the line went dead.

Status post a hasty debriefing in the early dawn after said call, the Avengers officially had a plan. Plus, more critically, the permission from SHIELD Director Nick Fury to self-interview the Spider rather than transporting him to SHIELD headquarters for detainment.

In SHIELD's database, Spiderman was an unknown. An unexplained variable. He was a questionable threat.

Spiderman was considered a problem to be dealt with, a potentially very dangerous problem.

Logically, Captain America knew the vigilante would not happily answer SHIELD's questions. Spiderman's age brought a host of issues that he had discussed in-depth with Agent Fury.

How did Spiderman come by his powers? Where they nascent or did he acquire said traits? As an enhanced individual who has taken up vigilantism, would he be required to halt his activities? Who were his guardians?

Thankfully, Steve had been able to argue the charges against the young hero in light of the vigilante's ignorance of the Sokovia Accords. As well as video evidence of his defensive position during their near wild goose chase a few hours prior. Captain America had a plan for the young Spider.

The desire for world peace between enhanced individuals and government agencies now banked on the fact that even private organizations like the Avenger's initiative were bound to an international set of rules. This leveled the playing fields and held supers accountable for their actions and destruction worldwide. It also provided support for the victims and cities who got caught between the crossfire.

Tony Stark was in favor of Sokovia Accords.

The nascence of Iron Man emerged violently from terrorists who held Stark weaponry. Stark learned by walking through fire, the pain of accountability through death. The genius sought to change a broken system that had become comfortable with no accountability for life.

Iron Man believed the Sokovia Accords would bring a check of power to protect the world and keep the individuals he loved safe. The love of his life, Pepper Virginia Potts. His best friend, Colonel James Rupert "Rhodey" Rhodes. Heck, even Happy, and well, the rest of the world too.

Avoiding extinction from mass weapon destruction was a decent goal for Stark. Ironically, he wasn't as much as a selfish bastard as the entire world thought him to be, despite the frequent bad press. Stark had a heart, as minuscule and rare as it was, it still pumped the blood through his veins.

Steve was not in favor of the Sokovia Accords.

Captain America believed there was always an agenda. The political scheming and bureaucratic payoffs created nothing more than personal gains. Allowing an international group, who already had significant amounts of power globally, super-enhanced individuals at their fingertips was like dropping raw chicken in a tank of piranhas and expecting dinner time to be postponed.

To be frank, Captain America did not trust the government—much less the grabby hands in the United Nations. He fought hard against these legal terms in the past few months but was ultimately outnumbered and outgunned in his initiative.

And so, the American hero had a plan and cleared with Agent Fury. His team, the Avengers, would be responsible for Spiderman's training and initiation into the Sokovia Accords. Although Steve did not agree with these legal rules, he lost his fight and now had to suffer the consequences.

Captain America argued it would be wiser to have a comrade in New York rather than an enemy. Fury agreed to this point. In addition, considering Spiderman's age, the young vigilante would need finessing of skills and knowledge before being contacted for missions from the United Nations, if that were the organization's end goal. Agent Fury also acknowledged this.

Captain America and his fellow teammates would inform, physically train, and gain the trust of the inexperienced vigilante. This would not only keep him aligned in the Sokovia Accords, but also allow the little guy to continue helping, well…the little guys.

Over the past few weeks, the Avenger's completed extensive research while attempting to track Spiderman; they found that the vigilante seemed to do more good than harm. The crime rates were lower, fewer people lived in fear, and the red and blue rose in popularity with the city people. Spiderman often webbed up criminals and thieves to walls and later notified local law enforcement.

Since the Avengers were often busy with more pressing issues, like aliens, having another set of eyes in the city would certainly provide the citizens with greater security on a day to day basis. Steve's plan was solid. With Fury's blessing, the team would proceed with its new initiate. His only concern was if Spiderman would agree to this plan, considering the last 24 hours.

Captain America's eyes followed Natasha across the room as she poured herself a black cup of coffee. The rest of the Avengers slowly trickled in status post their conference room debriefing at 0700. _It was a new day. _

Clint copied Natasha's actions and poured himself a cup of coffee. He proceeded to add 3 cubes of sugar, and enough half and half creamer to drown the coffee gods themselves; it was a latte dairy for sure but who was Steve to judge?

Bruce showed up a few minutes later with a cup of green tea fogging up the glasses that rested on the tip of his nose. Then there was Tony, stumbling in after Bruce. Tony who appeared to not have slept that night. _Was on his fourth, or was it his fifth cup of joe?_ Steve frowned at the dark circles staining his teammate's eyes.

With everyone gathered in the room, in understanding, but maybe not full accordance, of the plan Steve laid out, he cleared his throat and caught the attention of every anxious stare in the room.

Although not a soul would verbalize the collective emotion, the team felt embarrassed by their hasty actions against the kid. Obsessing over the location and tracking the vigilante played out in near cat and mouse form. Not realizing how drastically young and untrained Spiderman actually was, entrenched even more guilt of their actions.

"So…who's going to tell him?" Clint beat Natasha in verbalizing the looming question.

A beat of silence passed.

"I will."

Steve's eyes snapped over to the voice, head turning slowly in surprise. _Tony? He nearly killed Spiderman. Now he wants to tell the vigilante he's required to report weekly to the Avengers for training and monitoring of his activities. What on Earth is he thinking? _

"Really Tony?" Clint's caustic voice pulled Steve from his moment of confusion. "If you touch another hair on his head—" he proceeded in defense of Spiderman before Tony interjected.

"I won't. Trust me." Tony replied in haste. Meeting each eye in the room, the billionaire proceeded.

"Spiderman didn't deserve the manner in how we attacked him. I think all of us became a tad infatuated with catching what was unobtainable for weeks; it became a competition of who could outsmart who. Me especially." He paused to let the words sink in, before continuing.

"We don't know who Spiderman is, or if he is actually a decent guy beneath the mask," Stark held back a sassy smirk.

"What I do know is that we detained a kid who's only want was to be left alone. We should have noticed something was off. I should have noticed." Tony pursed his lips in dismay at their actions, his own especially.

"I know I'd probably be the last person Spiderman wants to see right now, but if we are going to carry out SHIELD's—uh well, Fury's plan, to gain his trust and conform the kid's brain to the regulations of the Sokovia Accords, and to get him to sign the damn document, then I should apologize." Tony held his eyes down.

It was a rare moment from the guy who doesn't actually ever apologize. Bruce and Steve shared a surprised look. Natasha held her steely gaze towards Stark.

"Touching," Clint quipped while narrowing his eyes.

"That's enou—" Steve was just about to end the squabble between the two idiots when JARVIS's security alarm started blaring.

"Sir, there has been a breach of security on the containment level," JARVIS urgently informed.

"Dammit. What kind of breach?" Stark demanded.

"Sir, it appears Deadpool has entered the building via air and is now making his way to the containment room."

As soon as those words echoed from the ceiling, every member of the Avenger's immediately scrambled to their feet and took off towards the elevator. There was only one reason Deadpool would be on that level. That specific floor did not hold a safe with jewels nor did it hold alien tech or nuclear launch codes. It held Spiderman.

Deadpool was known as the tool of never-ending death.

He is a rogue killer with no loyalty whatsoever. A mutant who uses his mercenary skills to hunt down people for money. Basically, a sharp-tongued, marksman, with professional swords wielding skills who also conveniently has super healing. The guy was unable to die, literally.

Frantic steps of the Avenger's bounced loudly against the walls as the team rushed to the elevator that would take them up the forty-something floors. In the mere seconds, it took for the elevator to arrive and open its door, Steve was already shelling out orders.

"Bruce, I need you to be our eyes and ears in the control room. I need a visual on Deadpool asap. If we need back up I'll com you in with details." The scientist gave a brisk nod. He preferred to avoid triggers bound to set off the other guy. Deadpool's antics would be sure to cause a stir.

"Clint, I want you manning the perimeter, no one enters or exits. We don't know if Deadpool decided to bring friends as back up even though he usually works alone." The archer huffed in annoyance of missing the main action but murmured an acknowledgment under his breath.

"Tasha, Tony, I need you both to intercept and confront Deadpool before he reaches Spiderman. He might not be able to die, but we can overpower him in strength. I will make my way to the kid and get him to a safer location if needed."

Although only knowing the vigilante mere hours, Steve already felt a sort of responsibility for his well being. To protect the goodness in the kid before the world decimates his desire for goodness.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened lazily. However, before any of the Avengers could step beyond the metal floor grating, a powerful explosion reverberated through the white marble floor.

"What the hell was that?" Tony yelped in anger.

The overwhelming tremble was enough to unsteady the feet of Natasha and Clint who each grasped the wall for balance.

"That wasn't good," Natasha echoed what was all on their tongues.

Her eyes widened slightly as a second explosion caused dust and ceiling specs to shower their heads. Each member braced their footing and covered their heads for a brief moment of attempted self-protection. Without another word, the Avenger's split in three different directions. Spiderman was apparently one popular arachnid.


	12. Chapter 12: 'Ello Mate

**here's a little treat from me to you. I got very excited to introduce this character to ya'll. Please R & R! **

REM sleep is a beautiful thing. Then again, fear and exhaustion are tag team motivators for the win. Dreams are often portrayals of deep subconscious emotions and stimuli. Sure, there is the typical "accidentally forgot to put my pants on and now I'm naked in public," or "did I lose my teeth?" or best yet, "I'm being chased."

Spiderman didn't even need the last one to be dug up from his subconscious; he is living his freaking nightmare.

Peter occasionally had dreams throughout drawn out and stressful past few weeks as he found his footing in the real world. As a freshly graduated high school student with little work experience, finding a job is fairly challenging in the Big Apple. Peter's CPS appointed guardians were as hands-off as near abandonment could get. Fortunately for him, he recently graduated into the reality of adulthood.

This meant that Aunt May and Uncle Ben's apartment was finally in Peter Parker's name. After untangling himself from this mess of politics, Peter would immediately change the locks. He would finally find peace and safety in his own home. He wouldn't have to wonder if his distant relatives would barge in on a Saturday afternoon looking for quick cash to supply their vices.

The young Spider had already decided to take the year to gain experience with a couple of research companies. He wanted to build up his savings first prior to college applications. College is certainly not cheap. Peter had so, so many dreams for the future. His future as Peter Parker, as Spiderman.

Yet, this dream was different. It felt more real than anything Peter had experienced in a long time.

He was on a boat.

The boat was swaying violently in the middle of a vast ocean. Oscillating to and fro, Peter dodged waves angrily grabbing at his legs while he looked around frantically. He sought out any sign of human aid as the tiny rowboat was slowly sinking in the middle of what appeared to be a voracious storm.

From the horizon, Peter thought he saw something grey and flat that looked like land. As he leaned forward, squinting in anticipation of the sight but froze at the changing scene before him. It was definitely not land. Land did not grow in depth or height. It is the kind of wave that comes once a century.

The thought drudged up a memory from his art history course, a woodblock print from ukiyo-e artist Hokusai. The Great Wave off of Kanagawa. Tall tales of sailors in open seas where massive waves emerged out of nothing to claim their ships and their lives.

Peter's little wooden rowboat was quivering in tension from the water strain. He stood frozen in panic, unable to escape the rapidly approaching doom. Craning his head to glance at the looming body of murky water Peter cried out as he raised his hands in a feeble attempt to protect himself from the icy water.

The wave arrived.

Its tentacles curving into Peter's creaking rowboat. Incredible amounts of pressure and weight of water disintegrating the wood boat beneath Peter's feet as he felt the jarringly cold hands envelop his frame. The grabby, foam-like hands crashed into him with such force Peter lost his breath at the ice against his skin. The curling hands trying to drown him into the depths of Davy Jone's locker.

The crashing, splintering sounds of the water and wood startled Peter awake. He thrashed wildly attempting to gain traction and stability in his web silk hammock. Slowly, he came to in the real world. Grabbing at his hammering chest with both hands, still swaying slightly in the hammock, Peter frantically investigated around the room for water.

The back of his neck buzzed in retrospect of his nightmare. Releasing a frustrated sigh, he ran a hand over his mask. Usually, he doesn't get so spooked with nightmares as Spiderman recurrently dealt with the wickedest side of humanity on the daily. _Get a grip Peter._

Briefly, something smelled like it was burning. _Maybe it is coming through the vents?_ Peter's anxiety was already on edge from lucidly dreaming his watery grave but now became exacerbated as the throbbing grew into a shrieking of his senses.

Peter turned to make his way down the ceiling corner when the slick white ceiling exploded with a violent white light. His sensitive hearing became muffled by the rapid detonation of sound. Speckled dust and chunks of wall plaster rained in all directions.

Losing his balance in surprise at the flying projectiles, Peter fell ungracefully to the floor. Halting his thud with his left wrist was not exactly Peter's smartest idea as he realized the pain reverberating up his wrist. Usually, Spiderman had his web-shooters to pad harsher blows and silly mistakes but that option was crushed during his playtime with the Avengers.

Holding back a hiss of pain as his torso pulsated in reminder of his still healing bruises, Peter hastily shielded his head with his hands as more of the tile collapsed. Curling in on himself, he attempted to protect his head from tumbling debris of shards and steel scraps as the residual ceiling entirely caved into his holding cell.

Spiderman cough wetly through his mask as the fine dust and black smoke filled his lungs. Peter's eyes burned from the smoke and dust particles. _What. The. Hell. Just. Happened. I thought this place was bombproof, literally. Maybe it's just HULK proof? _

Opening his eyes, a fraction at a time, Spiderman sluggishly sat up and haphazardly brushed off chunks of plaster from his suit. Giving a silent thanks, Peter was relieved he wasn't buried head to toe and sustained no other injuries. Aside of course from his own clumsiness.

The lights had gone off, leaving an uncanny red light blinkingly slowly as the emergency generators still hadn't kicked into reboot.

Spiderman's vision regained focus in the now dusky room as he started to more fully wake from his lingering nightmare. His spidey-senses were going haywire, perceiving threats in every direction. Thankfully, his ears were no longer filled with cotton.

Peter gazed sharply into every corner. He was unable to visualize any threats apart from the hefty piles of debris littering the room. Broken tile, beams of splintered wood, and sharp glass created a pile bulky enough to hinder anyone from noticing Spiderman from his patch on the floor.

Deciding to take precaution, Peter silently crawled behind one of the piles littering the floor. Straining his ears, he listened for rustling of any kind. All he heard was the crackling of electricity and groaning of fragmented metal.

Spiderman concluded it was safe enough to try and escape the cell. _Maybe I should go through the ceiling? _He desperately needed to find his way out of this hell hole. Every nerve in his body was on high alert; something was not right in the room. The quiet eerily mixed with the unnatural static energy. Spiderman's neck prickled as his hairs stood on end.

Sucking in a deep breath, and finally deciding to stop being a chicken, Peter gingerly began to peek his head out from behind the mound of debris.

To his confusion, a mirror red mask peered up simultaneously.

So, so many thoughts race through Spiderman's mind._ Did I hit my head? Am I seeing doubles? Maybe that's the double-sided glass?_ Until he settled on one. _That's not my reflection._ Heart in his throat, Peter was stunned.

"Eeek! It's a SPIDER!" An extremely high-pitched voice squealed out in terror, startling the living daylights out of Peter.

Amidst confusion and surprise, Spiderman flailed backward until he hit the wall. He hurriedly stood up to apprehend the intruder. Now with the man in full view, as he stepped out from behind the pile, Peter watched his very large muscular frame come to full height.

He was ironically also wearing a red suit. _What a copy-cat._ Peter guessed he fell into the cell when the ceiling exploded. _Wait. Is he holding a pair of swords? What the fu-_

"Tell me, are you poisonous? OH, oh, sorry I mean venomous. I mean, political correctness and all. Am I right?" Eyebrows bounced happily underneath the strange black and red mask as the man looked squarely at Spiderman with an inquisitive gaze.

Peter felt the tingle of his senses down to the tip of his spine. _He is definitely a dangerous man. I think...I think I know him? Where have I seen his face before? _

"No, I know he knows. Yes. Well DUH! That's the point. What? You want me to ask him what? Mmhm…Yeah, I probably should make sure before I squish him."

Spiderman stood mouth agape as he tried to figure out who this stranger was talking to, Peter threw a brief glance behind the stranger. _It may be a com on the other side? Wait...wait...squish me? _

"I mean, yeah chimichangas are pretty important. Oh, so NOW you want to taco-about it? You know, if you bring up the beef with tacos again, I'm gonna sour cream the hell out of…" The man in the red suit was still talking to himself, jumping from various subjects in a span of mere seconds. Peter was speechless at the odd display.

"Really though, are you venomous?" Suddenly, the man moved closer to Spiderman's stiff figure.

Peter's delicate senses picked up a subtle waft of gunpowder and a coppery sent from the man. He stiffened but did not recoil in fear. He would not show fear. Peter Parker may be anxious and nervous at the wall of muscle but Spiderman has dealt with worse.

"Because that would make my day more annoying than my favorite taco standing closing early. A good, hard-working individual like myself deserves to be able to spend my earnings. Don't you agree? Do you know how annoying it is to have your favorite taco stand close early?" The red-clad figure tilted his head waiting for an answer from Spiderman. The man stepped closer, further closing the gap between them.

"What?" Peter uttered in confusion as he drew a shuddered breathed at the looming figure.

Spiderman is not one to cower. Sure, retreat or tactically avoid the ruckus, but cower? No. Spiderman did not quite understand why this random, probably psychotic appearing man was giving him such bad vibes. Every ounce of common sense was screaming at Peter to MOVE.

He would have felt better if he had both web-shooters working rather than barely just half of one. Subtly, Spiderman positioned his hands behind his back, to check that his right web-shooter was in its place status post his fall. The thought that he still had some web protection in addition to his defense skills somewhat eased his mind.

The man had finally stepped into the red light of the room. Spiderman now made out the "debris" that cloaked his suit.

_Weapons. _

Every single type of weapon Peter could think of. Hand grenades, knives, handguns, what looked like a long-distance rifle with a silencer, and _oh my God, are those actual swords? _

The whites of Spiderman's eye widened as he took in the artillery clinging to the figure. He should have escaped the room before the lunatic man shuffled even closer, now only a few feet away.

"My eyes are up here sweetums." The armed figure smirked in amusement as Spiderman's gaze trailed the weapons littering his suit in bewildered awe.

Spiderman usually dealt with small-time robbers who occasionally had the nerve to carry a handgun. Singular usually unloaded, and the perp with no gun training whatsoever. Disarming or simply webbing the weapon was Peter's go-to strategy. The past had not been kind to Peter, or to his Uncle Ben. Peter Parker hated guns.

Spiderman's eyes zoned in the belt where most of the weapons were located._ If I could just get him away from his weapons...I could side pass him get out of here. Maybe I could try and web them down?_

"Gotta say, I'm a pretty big fan of where this is heading Spidey, normally I'd offer dinner first, yah know me being a gentleman and all, but unfortunately I'm on the clock."

Peter's addled brain was working on overtime to put the puzzle together, figure out who this man was, and possibly what he wanted.

The name of this weirdo was on the tip of his tongue. Spiderman remembered seeing his face on a wanted poster at a police station once a few months ago. _What was his name? Something about a drowning accident? Dammit! _

Suddenly the aimless talking stopped. _Clock. On the clock. Okay, so he works. He's on a job. HE IS ON A JOB._ Peter's eyes nearly popping out of his sockets at his realization.

_Spiderman was the job_.

If there was a big red panic button in Peter's brain, he would have pressed it by now. Wide hazel eyes flashed up to meet the red and black-masked mercenary as he connected the dots. Spiderman briefly held his piercing gaze before uncomfortably looking away from the calculating stare.

"Mmmm," the menacing figure let out a low, slow chuckle, "so the venomous Spider does know?" A Chesire cat-like grin spread across his face.

The dark, hooded eyes outlined Spiderman's lean frame against the wall. The eyes lingered, shamelessly. Peter felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as he shifted nervously under the scrutiny.

With every nerve on edge against the killer, Peter gathered up his courage. In defiance, he ferociously glared up to meet the dark orbs flashing back at him.

"Deadpool."

"Aww, see baby boy? You do know me."


	13. Chapter 13: Adios

**So mild clarification, Deadpool will not be written with yellow and white boxes specifically dialogued, but rather inner thoughts _italicized._ Feel free to decide which color influenced said thoughts, be creative. enjoy! r&r.**

Peter had a plan of action—albeit wildly strung together from nervous, chaotic energy—but a plan, nonetheless.

Spiderman still had his organic webs and one working web-shooter. He would use them to immobilize Deadpool before the merc could get abstract with his weaponry. Next, Peter planned to navigate his way to an exit, _windows count as exits, yeah?_ And then promptly, as MJ would say: blow this popsicle stand.

Despite Dr. Banner's kind and approachable demeanor the night before, Spiderman was still not a fan of his uninvolved involvement with his SHIELD detainment. Stark's rapid, choleric appearance and disappearance spoke volumes to Peter. Black Widow and Hawkeye had stood in the shadows, waiting for Spiderman to provide resistance, this didn't exactly comfort his situation.

No, the vigilante was not a very big fan of the Avengers at the moment or frankly of SHIELD. Spiderman had his priorities, dodge Deadpool, avoid the Avengers, and make it to his own birthday party. Simple enough. Plus, MJ said she had a surprise for him, which debatably is synchronously good and bad.

The mercenary was roughly a meter from Spiderman's glued frame pressed against the wall. Still recoiling from the uncomfortable staredown, Peter snapped in and annoyance at the situation. _Enough of being pushed around by scare tactics and rude commentary. I can handle this type of crazy. _

Maintaining the intensity of the Deadpool's glare, Spiderman put his plan in motion. He started by distracting the leering dark orbs. "I might know you, that doesn't mean I have to like you," Peter spat in disgust. He squared his shoulders to solidify his confidence.

Deadpool clutched his chest in fake dramatics. "Ouch, that hurts! You got me right in the cardiovascular Spidey."

Clasping his gloved red hands in excitement, the merc rolled on. "Now, now, I'd hate to tear up that tight little costume," sparing the figure quick one over, "I mean it doesn't leave much to the imagination. So why don't you be a good Spider and come without causing a scene? Hell only knows how insane Stark's security was to get to you, but what can I say? Money is an enticing motivator." The mercenary grinned happily.

Ignoring the lewd commentary, Spiderman pushed on with distracting the towering figure.

"Who's paying you to kill me?" A tentative voice played mouse as his fingers flittered over his web-shooter. Spiderman's recent activities in the so-called hero world was bound to attract attention sooner or later.

"Unaliving? Oh no, darling. They want the flesh and blood Spiderman," pausing as if in pensive thought, the Merc continued. Peter felt goosebumps raise in alarm at the idea that he is worth more alive than dead. It terrified him.

"I know, I know what you're thinking," raising his hands in mock defeat, "it's weird for me too. Personally, not my style, but I can make sacrifices, especially for you baby boy." The merc vowed with a plastered smile under his mask.

"E-excuse me?" Peter was stuttered in confusion. Deadpool never left a mark alive. Ever. _Well, at least he's not planning on killing me._

The red and black mask plowed over the question. "Although it seems you've already got yourself a little tied up with you Avenger friends. Don't get me wrong Spidey, I've thought of plenty of creative ideas to keep you on the straight and narrow web until the delivery. Mmm, some more entertaining than others I might add," the dark eyes smirked with delight.

"Right." _Enough of this nonsense. Show no fear towards him. He vibes off of fear. Okay, okay. Deep breath, I can do this._

Deadpool tilted his head while analyzing Spiderman's curt manner of speaking before starting to talk to himself again. "I don't know guys…maybe a spider got his tongue? I could check, but I'm really not fond of his relatives. Like, at all. They're all small, hairy, multiple eyed freaks. You don't have more eyes do yah Spides? You know White, that's a good idea. I could just take his mask off and see who the real Spidey is, then there would be no case of mistaken identities. Maybe he does have boxes of his own? Didn't peg him as the type. Strange, I was sure he'd sing like a canary when I came to rescue him from this hell hole…You know Webs, I heard rumors you'd be more talkative in pers—"

Before Deadpool finished his sentence, Spiderman nimbly flicked his right web-shooter in calculated movements, first towards the Merc's torso. Peter adeptly stuck the Merc's arms and legs together while also layering his artillery belt with webbing. Simultaneously, he used his left wrist spinnerets and aimed at the Merc's face, releasing a flurry of uncoordinated web. _Sometimes silly string is better than nothing._

The vigilante was immensely glad for the food Dr. Banner provided the night before, without the nourishment he would struggle to produce durable and silk-like webbing while recovering from his injuries. He succeeded in cocooning the red and black figure to the ground with a sticky web coat. Deadpool wormed back and forth attempting to loosen the silk web to little avail.

Finally, Peter listened to his now vibrating senses. Smoke burned his nasal cavity and coated his tongue as he swallowed trying to clear the bitter, lingering taste. His hearing had returned in full, and sight had adjusted to the dim red lighting. No double vision or cotton balls in his ears.

He was finally starting to feel back to normal after the hits from yesterday. Peter's neck pulsated in warning; his sense-heightened adrenaline continued to warn him of Deadpool's presence.

Sidestepping the now very sticky, tied up Merc, Spiderman hastily climbed on top of the surrounding mound of debris, rather ungracefully considering its instability. His calf injury throbbed with the unexpected exertion. The vigilante ignored the muffled mumblings escaping the mercenary's webbed mouth.

Although some scraps of drywall and splintered wood flittered to the ground under Peter's weight, he lithely jumped to grab the edge of the caved-in ceiling. With a huff of effort, Spiderman pulled himself through the damaged hole in the ceiling.

Not for the first time, Spiderman was immensely grateful for his healing factor. His bruised torso still twinged with effort, but no longer radiated with pain from Black Widow's hits. The repulsor burn was warm but no longer raw and pulsating.

Pausing orient his direction before fully making his escape, Spiderman stuck his head over the hole. He glowered in abhorrence at the figure below.

He was given more questions than answers. Attacked with more insinuating content than Peter thought possible for one conversation. And threatened as a mark by the infamous Deadpool himself.

In a fury of confidence, Spiderman cleared his throat and steeled his voice. Peter caught Deadpool's vehement gaze from behind the flurry of web plastered over his mask and limbs.

"I'm not a job, asshole."


	14. Chapter 14: Checkmate

**'ello peeps! here is the next much-anticipated chapter! and on a side note, in this fic there will be no slash or smut. at most maybe some entertaining innuendos from the merc, but that is all I got for you people. Don't forget to review, it feeds my soul. thx and enjoy!**

Seconds ticked by rapidly as the Avenger's filtered into their positions as detailed by Captain America prior to exiting the elevator. Bruce had successfully made his way to the control room where the scientist frantically reviewed security footage in search of activity. Deadpool's breach in security somehow managed to cut camera footage for the entire floor, making it difficult to visualize Spiderman and further damage caused by the explosion.

Black Widow and Iron Man jointly cleared the rooms down the hallway as they proceeded to where Spiderman was last located. The pair hoped to intercept Deadpool if the mercenary hadn't already reached the vigilante.

Hawkeye scanned the sides of the Avenger's Tower as he made his way a few floors above the general commotion. His eyes filtered through the glass paneling searching for any backup the mercenary may have brought along. Satisfied with the lack of firepower, Clint focused on his next task to secure the area.

The archer began the process of setting up block points around the roof bound exits, just in case their guests got creative. He already jammed all but the last stairwell exit. The only exit was down, theoretically.

JARVIS's informative tone calmly came over the communal ear com with some crackly static.

"Sir, there is significant damage to the containment room due to a low-grade explosion. Video surveillance is unavailable as is my security for the floor. Emergency lockdown protocol has been initiated."

"Good work JARVIS, keep us updated on visuals to the surrounding floors. If there is so much as a glimpse of Deadpool or Spiderman I want their locations immediately." Stark shifted restlessly as he peered into the passing rooms.

Natasha took the lead as she and Tony secured the floor. They worked their way towards Steve who had made a beeline the containment room.

Tony shook his head in irritation at the lack of preparedness. He would need to reprogram JARVIS with an updated security system to include aerial attacks. Of course, as he owned the tallest and most technologically advanced building in New York, air infiltrations hadn't exactly been on the top of the to-do list. His AI was due for an upgrade anyway. Glancing forward to where Natasha positioned, another crinkle of static cut the tense silence.

Bruce's pressing tone filtered into the com. "Nat, I have eyes on Spiderman. He is located a floor directly above both of you heading to the west wing."

"Thanks Bruce."

With his stumble of rushed words, Natasha's eyes flickered to Steve who stood outside of the containment room shaking his head in dismay. The room was empty.

The ceiling had mostly caved in according to what she could see from down the hall. The Russian spy was suddenly very glad Bruce was in the control room rather than near potential explosives or triggers. The team wanted to avoid Code Green at all costs.

The Avengers had enough to work through at the moment. Especially considering a highly trained mercenary infiltrated and bombed part of the tower. Director Fury would not be pleased. Now, Spiderman was missing or dead. Natasha frown at the situation at hand.

Spiderman was still a wild card.

The Avengers still knew little to nothing about the vigilante apart from the fact he was eighteen years old and generally not considered dangerous. SHIELD on the other hand viewed the red and blue youth as an uncontrolled, enhanced individual who needed to be vetted and apprehended for defying the Accords.

Nick Fury wanted answers.

It was the Avenger's job to give it to him with minimal side damage. If the Avengers are unable to provide adequate information, SHIELD would enforce the Sokovia Accords by any means necessary. If Spiderman refused contact, more forceful methods would be applied. This is what the team wanted to avoid, especially with the new information on Spiderman.

In part of Captain America's agreement with Fury, the collective team would train and eventually initiate Spiderman into the Accords. This contract extended to the completion of missing information from the vigilante's file. The Avengers could not let Spiderman leave just yet; it was for his own protection.

Natasha spared a peek to the ceiling as she and Stark re-routed to the nearest stairwell to intercept the vigilante. Reaching the top of the stairwell, the pair silently entered the hallway and turned to where the sound of rushing footprints echoed closer.

Spiderman's frenzied steps came to an abrupt halt as his body froze at the sight.

Peter's breath hitched as a look of shock flashed against his masked features before morphing into trepidation. The youth subconsciously shuffled a step back at the sight of the two Avengers.

Natasha spoke softly, to the flighty figure. "Easy there Spiderman, don't do anything stupid." She paused to give the retreating figure a one-over, "it'll be safer if you come with us." The spy knew the Spider could hold his own but was nonetheless relieved he hadn't been skewered by a mass murderer.

Uncertainty lingered in the vigilante's actions as the Spider hesitated to move in either direction. Spiderman took a coup d'œil behind his shoulder as if deciding whether or not to retreat further.

Natasha's glare never ceased from observing the vigilante's movement as he cautiously back away as they pressed closer. Conflict marred Spiderman's actions as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

Stark's gaze flickered behind the figure, searching for a specific mercenary. He was not disappointed.

Deadpool furiously walked towards the commotion while loudly mumbling to himself. He was accompanied by swinging swords. His rough baritone voice interrupted the scene before either Avenger could speak further.

"Oh Spidey-bear, you forgot Bea and Arthur. Today I _so conveniently _found out they can cut through some pretty thick webbing. Not that I don't appreciate a good chase, but the gimmicks got to go Spides. Tell me, do your webs come from," motioning with his pointer finger to the vigilante's derrière, "back there, or is it like some chemical you spray from your wrists? I want to know if I should get my suit dry cleaned." His dry sarcasm permeated with rage as a menacing gleam was cast towards the red and blue figure.

"I-I…don't, they don't…" Peter squeaked a rebuttal but his words fell flat against the red wall of muscle.

Usually, Peter was able to keep his braver Spiderman persona as a front with quick-witted quips, but it seemed Peter Parker took the stage on this one. Peter wished MJ was here, she would fire back at the Merc in an instance.

Deadpool looked beyond ticked off, as he brushed off the sticky substance coating his torso. Spiderman angled his body to face the mercenary who continued to gingerly edged closer, swords in hand. Peter didn't quite know which threat to face first.

Spiderman's head flip between the Iron Man and Deadpool, both of whom were closest to him. Peter's feet remained firmly plant on the ground as his eyes frantically shifted around the room for any other exits.

However, before Peter could better formulate a response to the Merc, another voice beat him to the punch.

"Deadpool stand down immediately. Do not approach Spiderman." Captain America's commanding order caught the attention of every eye in the room.

He stood fully geared with his vibranium shield in hand approaching the standoff. Spiderman's head snapped in Deadpool's direction.

The American hero emerged a few meters behind Deadpool who likewise appeared surprised. Cringing at the mess of the situation, Peter figured they had both followed his dusty footsteps after he climbed through the ceiling hole.

It was a crowded hallway to say the least.

Visual and auditory stimuli caused Spiderman's senses to bounce off the walls at the bombardment information. _Ugh, why can't I get a grip today._ Peter attempted to slow his rapidly expanding lungs as anxiety threatened to click play on his flight of fight response.

He could hear the rhythm of each heartbeat, the strongest being Captain America who was in the process of catching his breath. Black Widow's heart rate was low and steady. Iron Man's pulsed a strange, cautious pattern. Deadpool's reflected that of a hamster's on a running wheel.

"No can do Cap. I can call you Cap, right? I could also call you Mr. America, Spangles, Stars and Stripes, Spankers, or Mr. Fant-asstic, but if I'm being honest here gramps, Cap sounds more official." Deadpool rambled on, steamrolling past the warning.

"Listen guys, I'm here for my best friend Spidey. We'll be out of here in a jiffy." The Merc winked at the red headed widow sending daggers in his direction.

Peter held his tongue at the words biting at his lips, _I am not your friend._

"Yeah. That's not going to happen Deadpool." Stark rebutted with a smirk playing his lips.

"Is that so shiny pants? Hmm, funny. I don't recall asking for your permission. Anyway, it looks like Webs over here was on his way out, so we'll just be leaving. Spidey, be a good little bug and get over here." Deadpool started to inch closer to where Spiderman remained sandwiched between the four individuals flanking his position.

It was a good 'ol standoff.

Peter's eyes flittered nervously between the two threats on opposing sides of the corridor. At the moment, Spiderman had two choices.

Leave at the mercy of a psychotic maniac where Spiderman's value was of monetary compensation, only to later be brought to an unknown "buyer." Or continue to be forcefully detained by his childhood heroes who sought to unmask his identity and conveniently report it to SHEILD—to the world.

Peter couldn't fathom either choice.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Spiderman subtly looked around for anything to help his situation. His unbalanced senses made him feel like he was caught between two opposite magnetic fields. It was obvious that Choices A and B were trick answers, so clearly Peter picked C—the air vent directly above him.

In one fluid motion, Spiderman used his right web-shooter to stick against the metal grate covering the entrance. With a sharp tug, the metal clattered loudly against the floor. Without hesitation, Peter shot another web up through the vent and vaulted his weight skyward.

A flurry of shouts and movement followed but Spiderman was already whisked into the vented maze of the Avenger's Tower.

Peter was immensely glad he was flexible and had a compact frame. The vent was narrow but just wide enough for Spiderman to get a decent grip on the cool metal.

He blinked rapidly as his eyes started to compensate for the lack of light. Sighing, as his shoulders got stuck, Peter began to wonder if this was really the best idea.


	15. Chapter 15: Adieu

**alright friends, maybe one or two more chapters until I wrap this sucker up for good! I dislike loose ends and will certainly finish this fic, never fear Deadpool and the Avengers will also make a final appearance. the upcoming chapter will most likely feature Ned & MJ. enjoy my lovelies. please R&R!**

Peter could distinctly hear metal on metal clashing below the vent as he pulled himself through a tight corner. _What on earth has my life become? Ergh, I hope I don't actually get stuck. I still need to get to an exit. _He wiggled and wormed his way up the cramped vent space.

It had certainly been a perplexing past 24 hours. Spiderman went from friendly neighborhood hero, to fugitive attacked by SHIELD, and now a mercenary target?

It was a lot to process.

Nevertheless, the vigilante continued to semi-navigate an army crawl through the shadowy, chilled vent passages. He passed various metal grates, each revealing artificial light streaming in from each peculiar room in the tower. _A damn map would be useful. _Peter huffed in frustration at the ridiculousness of the situation. He was in a freaking air vent, on his birthday, hiding from the Avengers—of all people!

The sound of commotion were no longer audible from his location. Peter was left with tense silence and his shaky, labored pants. His palms were sweaty with exertion and fingers jittery with apprehension. Since the moment he woke up from his nightmare that morning, his spider-senses had pestered him nonstop. The vigilante finally had a wisp relief as he took a minute to assuage his fanatically pounding heart and frayed nerves.

Deciding he was far enough away from the general commotion, Peter delicately opened a metal grate and eased himself out of the vent system. Landing nimbly on the white marble floor, the Spider let his gaze scan for trouble. His spider-senses remained at a low hum but noted no sensible danger.

The room Spiderman descended into was lavishly decorated with velvet pillows, random Greek marble sculptures, and opulent gold finishes around the ceiling crests. The living area led out to an overviewing balcony. _Bingo. _Peter thought excitedly at the concept of freedom once again.

Freedom from the claustrophobic interrogation room. Freedom from the judgmental stares from the Avengers. Freedom from the sickly-sweet memories of finally meeting his heroes in person. The red and blue figure shuddered at the choking thought.

Spiderman scanned the open concept area, and in haste jogged towards the glass door. He gave it an experimental tug. Peter frowned in dismay; it was locked. A gentle, yet ominous, voice broke the frenzy of Peter's swirling thoughts.

"Spiderman, Emergency Protocol has been initiated. Please remain at your location for further instructions."

"Who said that?" Whipping around at the sound, Peter let his eyes flitter around the room but didn't see a soul.

"I am JARVIS. Mr. Stark's personal AI. Please remain at your current location until further directions."

"Yeah, that's a no JARVIS," Peter replied cautiously. "I've been here long enough…" he mumbled to himself as he shifted in his suit. Peter could not wait to get out of his itchy, ripped, sweat dried suit. He wanted to go home. Home.

The vigilante let a tiny smile grace his lips at the concept. _I guess since I'm finally 18, the apartment is now officially in my name. _He reminisced fondly at the kindness he felt from his Uncle Ben and Aunt May. He was going home. He would finally be able to change the locks to his apartment and get away from his toxic, borderline abusive relatives.

The Spider scanned the room for any other window openings—nothing, zilch, nada. The glass panels reached from floor to ceiling with no visible grip for opening. _Door it is then. _Spiderman held the knob and twisted the metal off the door frame. This allowed him to shoulder his way through the door frame. He was beyond ecstatic to feel the warm air embracing his suit.

Ever since his spidery change a few years ago, Peter had always struggled to keep warm. Thermoregulation was a challenge even in the dead of summer.

Not wasting another moment, Spiderman hustled to the balcony edge. It would be tricky to swing with one working web-shooter, but he'd done it before. _I'm just on top of one of the tallest buildings in New York, no biggie. _Peter swallowed apprehensively at the thought of flinging himself at this height. Wind gusted around his torso as he felt his adrenaline kick into full gear once again. The red and blue figure stilled near the edge as he mentally prepared himself.

He was usually closer to the ground, in most normal circumstances. _Whelp, here goes nothing_. He began to ascend over the railing, briefly calculating where to stick his web on the building next over when the vigilante heard a shout.

"SPIDERMAN WAIT!"

Peter swiveled his head in unease at the unsuspecting yell. Dr. Banner appeared through the broken doorframe shaking his head in exasperation at seeing the Spider prepped to fling himself off the building. The scientist was panting as he placed his hands in the air in a supposedly placating stance.

Spiderman bristled in anger at the gesture. He wasn't some sort of wild animal.

"Don't come any closer Dr. Banner, I'm not in the mood to play games." Spiderman retorted sourly. In all honesty, he was upset Dr. Banner had a hand in his situation at all.

"I'm not playing a game Spiderman." The man warily lowered his hands but didn't move any closer to the taut vigilante.

Now catching his breath, the scientist continued in a sorrowful tone. "I'd like to apologize for the recent actions of the Avengers." Spiderman remained poised to launch his web-shoter but listened, nonetheless.

"You mean my forced, unlawful detainment?" Peter fumed at the unjust use of fear tactics and the team advantage. Dr. Banner winced slightly at his phrasing, although not deny their underlying current of truth.

He proceeded in a quiet soft tone. "We were wrong to presume the worst of your intentions. Admittedly, our information in regard to your identity was limited to online articles, photographs and videos, not all of which portrayed your actions in a favorable light."

"You're one to talk." Peter rebutted in a caustic manner.

Spiderman pushed forth with unraveling bitter thought, "Plus, it's not like fighting aliens don't have a side of casualties. But that's not important is it? What's important is the scrutiny and hypocrisy the Avengers find in my actions."

"Listen kid, I-"

"I'm not a kid." Peter was finished with this particular conversation.

He was done feeling attacked and devalued in his actions. Peter turned away from the Dr. Banner with the intent to swing off the balcony when the scientist hastily continued. The vigilante didn't turn around but remained on the balcony edge.

"Spiderman, with the Accords in place, your vigilantism does not come without consequences. SHIELD requests that you train with the Avengers for the safety of the city's citizens. We want to help you fight crime within the law, not against it. You have one week to return to the Avenger's Tower for a briefing on regulations created for genetically enhanced individuals and advanced training. If you don't, SHIELD will take matters into their own hands. And trust me, you don't want that."

Peter inhaled sharply at the onslaught of words.

He understood the warning loud and clear. Play by our rules or you can't play with us and we'll make sure of it. To be honest, he didn't know as much about the Sokovia Accords regulations as he'd like. Spiderman certainly didn't want to make an enemy out of the Avengers. Unfortunately, in consideration of the last few hours, they were already off to a rough start.

"I understand." Spiderman replied dryly.

Peter had plenty more words for the scientist—The Avengers as a collective—as he recalled his unprovoked attack and basically borderline kidnapping, but kept his response brief. His spider-senses started to flitter up the base of his skull. The vigilante presumed more Avengers were making their way up the Tower, nearing their current location. Spiderman decided to take the exit while he still could. In the main time, there was a plenty to process and consider in regard to the Avenger's ultimatum.

Without another word, Peter jumped.

The sound of wind rushing past his ears deafened Dr. Banner's next response. _Thwip-thuck._ A taught web pulled Peter out of his flurry of thoughts as he stuck to the adjacent building. His eyes prickled with pent up frustration. Spiderman breathed in deeply the sights and sounds of the city he loved so dearly.

_Thwip-thuck_. Peter intentionally swerved and cross crossed around the maze of buildings, attempting distance and confusion if he were to be followed by the Avengers.

Glancing down Peter instantly spotted yellow taxis swerving hundreds of feet underneath him, their pestering honks juxtaposed the quite roofs tops in jarring dissonance. The ubiquitous scent of falafel and freshly made bagels wafted though Spiderman's mask making him salivate at the thought of food.

His stomach certainly agreed to the concept of food—_food is always a good idea._ _Thwip-thuck. _Peter sighed dejectedly as he felt a cramp mid-swing. Sometimes, just sometimes, Spiderman wished he didn't possess and advanced metabolism.

His arms and body mechanically knew the way back to his home in Queens. It was kind of like driving back from work—getting from point A to point B without really remembering it. Not that Peter had much experience driving. He lacked an adult figure willing to teach him the skill. Still, YouTube came in clutch—_at least I know the basics of driving._

_Thwip-thuck_. Spiderman swung with more urgency as he saw the time on a building clock tower; it was nearly mid-day. The vigilante finally edged off to the lower buildings near his apartment and made his way to a spare backpack he kept hidden in case of emergencies.

Peter pulled into a dim alleyway where the pack lay hidden. He quietly climbed down the brick wall and landed lightly behind a massive recycling bin. The pack held a change of clothes, gauze, and a few snack bars. _Basics am I right? _Scanning the area, Peter made quick work of changing from his iconic red and blue spandex into a soft gray hoodie and worn jeans.

Peter grimaced as he sat down on the cold concrete. His body throbbed in complaint as he proceeded to stuff his suit into the bottom of his bag. He ravished the snack bars, making a mental note to replace them later. Leaning his head back against the rough brick wall, Peter relished the quiet alley.

Now in civilian clothes, the teen stood up to make the final journey around the block home. As he stood too quickly, black spots dotted the edges of his vision. Peter gripped the brick wall so he wouldn't pitch forward, waiting for the dizziness to clear. _Probably low blood sugar or dehydration—or both. _Maybe swinging from downtown with a single working web shooter after a semi-traumatic experience wasn't the best idea.

Taking in a deep breath, he continued around the corner of the alleyway, his apartment now in sight. Peter felt nearly euphoric relief of being so close to his safe space. No one could track him there as Spiderman. He was always very careful to switch out of his suit away from the area. If anything, Peter appeared like a slightly haggled college student struggling to survive in the unforgiving city, it was pretty close to the truth anyhow.

Reaching his front door, spider-senses silent, Peter open his apartment. He was finally home. The 24 hours had been beyond a harrowing, exhausting experience. The adrenaline that kept him swinging since ebbed out of his system, leaving Peter to feel everything in an overabundance.

Walking into his familiar space, the teen knew he needed to change the locks to his door, but at the moment all Peter wanted to do was curl up in a tight ball under his warm covers. Instead, he settled to sticking solid wood chair under and against the door handle—it should prevent any normal humans from entering his apartment. He knew his relatives wouldn't return the keys to his apartment, plus he guessed they probably had made copies anyway.

As an individual, Peter greatly valued his privacy and identity.

While living under the "guardianship" of his relatives, Peter had none of that. No limits, privacy, boundaries, routine, and worst of all—no control. No control to when his relatives would appear, what they would leave with, or how they treated him. Most of the time he was yelled at for being in the way, so he learned to just disappear from his apartment when they decided to snoop around. He'd often sit on the roof of his complex waiting for them to leave with whatever items they sought to pawn off that day.

Becoming Spiderman pushed boundaries further with reporters from news sources and New York policemen always attempting to discover his identity. He finally felt a tad bit safer without having to look over his shoulder in his own apartment. _I guess 18 is looking a little better…_Peter thought satirically at how he actually remembered his birthday earlier that day. He'd been sitting in a cramped corner floor with Iron Man grilling him while he was still reeling from their attack.

So far Peter had done a fair job of repressing his emotions, all of which now seemed to bubble up from the depths of despair. Each memory fighting for attention, they all wanted a front row seat to the movie showing. Eventually, he would have to process and come to terms with what happened.

Spotting his messy bed, Peter dropped his pack on the floor and sluggishly crawled under his plush navy blanket. His cozy blanket was one of the few comfort items he wasn't ashamed to admit he loved. Peter hummed a sigh of content with the earnest heat enveloping his form and his bruised body sinking into his bed.

Peter tried to let his mind go blank—key word, _tried. _Despite the lead like energy coating his figure, his mind was a buzz. Emotional shock in comparison to physical shock is a funny thing. One doesn't quite recognize physical shock encompasses rapid shallow breathing, elevated pulse, and lowered blood pressure, and that afterwards, there is the emotional aspect of shock.

Emotional shock comes in various contexts ranging from psychological or physical symptoms, to even cognitive and behavioral. In his most recent AP Psychology course taken during Peter's senior year at Midtown High, he became very interested in the strange subject. Mostly to understand how he could better communicate with the multitude of victims he'd encounter throughout the city. Victims mainly of physical assault, general abuse, and sexual assault.

Peter was fairly certain the numbing fatigue and flashbacks his brain started to loop were due to his ever so enlightening experience with the Avengers. Deciding to go to his last resort, Peter thought of the color white. It was a technique he used to block everything out of his mind, just a calm white surface.

No feelings of anxiousness about the Avengers. No replaying Iron Man burning a physical hole through his suit. No wondering about what could have been if Aunt May was still alive. No reminiscing about his goofy best friend, Ned, or the girl he had a major crush on—MJ—but would never actually admit. Nothing—just the color white.

It was soothing to block out all distractions and overwhelming sensations to memories. Peter felt heavy sleep creeping up, paralyzing his limbs into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
